Grindewald
by Rein of Review inc
Summary: Back from Hiatus for REAL this time! Ed finally found away out of Munich unfortunately, he lands far from Amestris. But going to Hogwarts? And with Roy Mustang? RoyEd, Sirius/Remus. HP: Post HBP. FMA: AU before movie. ALSO: I AM MADE OF FAIL. OBVIOUSLY.
1. Chapter 1

Edward groaned, slowly returning to consciousness. The last thing he remembered was him leaping…he didn't know quite where from, though. What he did recall about what had happened was…was…

He opened his eyes, blinking in an attempt to return his vision to him. It did, to a degree; it was dark, wherever he was, and he couldn't really tell what time it was. And it was so quiet…he could hear the gears in his auto-mail shifting as he forced himself into an upright position. After a moment of dizziness, he took a few deep breaths and looked around him carefully.

He seemed to be sitting in a field…no, he was on a lawn; that was obvious from the blades of grass poking him through his pants. There was also a lake nearby, although it could have been a mirror for all he knew; it was so glassy. A shack and a forest stood to his left, and next to him was…

Ed's eyes narrowed as they traveled over the unconscious man next to him. He'd seen him in Munich once…labeled as a…what was it? Abomination, they had called him…yes, that was the one…he'd been led to the prison, screaming random obscenities and two names, as far as Ed could make out. "Harry" and "Remus," he thought they were. When he'd seen him, he'd pitied him for a moment of his precious time, and then returned to his research on how to get back to Amestris. When he'd found a way and leapt out of that world, the man had grabbed him, a desperate look in his eyes. No words were exchanged, but Ed had let him come for reasons even he didn't know.

…Maybe the look in the man's eyes was too much like Ed's own…desperate.

Whoever this man was didn't matter…or, rather, it was too trivial for the moment. What really mattered was the fact that he was out of Munich now; he _had_ to look for Alphonse and…no, he just had to find Al…and maybe Winry. He took another look around.

This really wasn't Amestris.

"Arrgh!" Ed growled, flopping onto his back again and looking at the stars. This area was truly isolated – there wasn't even the quiet chatter that you could hear at any given time elsewhere. In spite of all the planning he'd done, this was one thing that Edward hadn't thought that he'd return anywhere other than Amestris; the thought hadn't even crossed his mind. Surely, he had thought, he would return to where he'd left from.

He could, Ed reasoned, go to the shack and see if the person living there could help him out, but he seriously doubted that the person would have a phone or mailbox. He sighed, resting his head on his human arm; maybe he wasn't even in his own world. Perhaps…there were hundreds of worlds just like his own and Munich…thousands, possibly. Maybe there wasn't even a way for him to get back in the first place…

Ed threw his head back hopelessly, sighing again, and then gasped as an enormous structure came into his view. He flipped over, jaw dropping as he saw light streaming out of one of the windows, flickering like a fire's. Taking a step back mentally, he looked over the whole building, breathing hard as he finally recognized it.

It was a castle.

He pushed himself to his feet, acutely aware of the pounding in his ears. If there was a phone anywhere in this godforsaken place, it would be in the castle. However, he knew neither where he was nor who he was around; he didn't even know what time it was. The person living here might not want to help him…they might want nothing to _do_ with him. All the same…

…he had to try, after coming so far.

A low moan from next to him snapped him back to reality; and it was then that he remembered his new vagabond friend, conveniently out of it and immobile. He scowled, coming to terms with the fact that leaving him here was something he just couldn't do right now; it would be on his conscience forever if he didn't do anything to help this man. So, resigned to his decision, Edward pulled the man's arm over his shoulders and started up towards the castle.

He stumbled not five feet from where he'd started, gritting his teeth in frustration. It wasn't that the guy was all that heavy…in fact, Ed was certain that he weighed more than the other man, even without his auto-mail. It was just…the man was so damn tall; if he were standing on his own two feet, he'd probably be a whole foot taller than him. The young man cursed his height, and then straightened up and continued his journey towards the castle's doors.

By the time he reached the front entrance, his pant legs were completely saturated with dew. After spending a moment glaring at the shiny black fabric, he came to his senses and reached for the knocker. He gripped it briefly, and then let go, absentmindedly reaching for his watch to check the time; he really didn't want to anger whoever lived here by showing up at some ungodly hour and asking for refuge.

"…Idiot…" he whispered as soon as he opened his silver state-issued pocket watch. How stupid could he get? He knew perfectly well that his watch hadn't read the right time ever since he'd gotten stuck in Munich in the first place…it didn't even work anymore, really. The only thing it could do for him was show that he was a State Alchemist of Amestris…and, if he was right, this place was a far cry from Amestris. Damn the useless thing!

…But…

Ed blinked, smacking his forehead and letting out a frustrated growl. There was dew on the grass, right? That meant that dawn wasn't even an hour away. Since the temperature was cool, but not cold, Ed could only assume that it was summer here, likely mid-June or early July. The trees nearby were full of leaves; none were on the ground. He did a little calculating; during the summer, the sun rose at about 6:30, so it had to be 5:30 to 6:00 in the morning…

Ed scoffed. It didn't matter! There was a light on in one of the rooms, right? That meant that someone was awake in the castle! Why they would be awake just before dawn did cross his mind for a moment, but the thought was pushed from his mind by a loud gurgle from his stomach.

Finally, the young man raised his hand again and knocked on the heavy wooden door four times, trying to balance the larger body next to him. A few moments passed before Ed heard footsteps approaching the door; he breathed deeply in relief, allowing himself to relax as they got closer.

It seemed to take ages for the door to crack open just enough for an unfavorable looking man with long, scraggily brown hair around his face and waxy skin to cast a wary eye over him. Ed tried not to cringe as he felt himself being scrutinized by the silent man, though it was extremely difficult to not do so. After he managed to get the hairs on the back of his neck to lie flat again, Edward opened his mouth to say something, say _anything_ to the man. He was interrupted before he even started.

"Who are you and what do you want here?" the man snarled, snaking a yellow hand around the doorframe. For a moment, Edward seriously considered slamming the abused wood on the man's fingers. He refrained from doing so just by the realization that if he pissed this man off, he could probably kiss all chances of help or hospitality goodbye. He took a deep breather and answered.

"My name's Edward Elric; I know it's late…early…" he corrected himself, not sure why it even mattered. "…but I really need to contact my little brother, the sooner, the better…oh, and this guy needs some help, too, I think," he muttered, shifting the man's weight. The man at the door squinted, and then took a step back.

"If that's not Sirius Black, then my name's not Argus Filch…" he said, eyes widening. "So…yes, yes…come in. I'll go fetch the headmistress for you right away, Mr. Elric…come, come…"

This "Filch" character opened the door and ushered them in. Edward stepped through carefully, wincing at the sudden light. Regardless of how dim it may have been, the lighting in this hallway was still different enough to sting at his eyes. While he waited for his vision to return to normal, he heard the steps rushing off. Good, he figured; let the creepy guy leave. The way he figured it, this gave him just enough time to see if there was any damage to his auto-mail; he was pretty sure this place wouldn't have a mechanic that specialized in prosthetic limbs, after all. He carefully set the man on the ground next to him and gripped his right glove. He was just about to remove it when he heard the footsteps rushing back towards him.

"Mr. Elric…" Filch panted, coming into view and stopping to catch his breath, gripping the handrail to a staircase that Edward hadn't even had time to acknowledge the presence of. Behind him, a woman with all the appearances of a nun gone bad stood, surveying him from under a black hat. Edward shivered, put a little on edge by the calculating look she was giving him. She cast her gaze down next to Ed and, surprisingly, her eyes widened as they fell upon the black haired man next to him.

"My goodness…" she murmured breathily. "That really is Sirius Black, isn't it?"

Ed didn't have the time or luxury to be confused; the woman rushed down the stairs so quickly that he could've sworn she was flying. She reached them in a matter of seconds and, completely ignoring Edward, she knelt next to the unconscious man next to him…the man that both she and Filch had called "Black".

On the plus side, being ignored gave Edward a chance to take in his surroundings and make a few observations about the people here. The castle was old…and it was _enormous_ as well. The stairs led up to a gigantic set of doors, and on either side of the stairwell, there were four hour glasses, each with a different colored stone in it. Ed blinked in confusion; the stones were staying in the upper parts of the hourglasses. They seemed to have a…a _disdain_ for _gravity_.

Aware that if he questioned it anymore he would be classified as obsessed, Ed turned his attention to the older woman, who was currently checking the "Black" fellow's pulse. She had graying hair that was pulled back in a bun, veined hands, and wrinkles. He arched his eyebrows as he took in her outfit: black robes, a pointed black hat, and a shawl. She seemed to be in her fifties or sixties, like someone's grandmother.

Seemingly content with her examination, she reached into her sleeve for something. Ed wondered briefly if she was a nurse or doctor, but pushed the thought out of his mind as she pulled out what, for all intents and purposes, looked like a polished stick. She pointed it at Black's chest carefully, and then murmured something.

"Ennervate," she said, and waited patiently, lowering her stick. To Edward's great surprise, the man stirred, rubbing his forehead and groaning much like Ed had.

"Minerva?" He asked as he opened and closed his eyes a few times. "Hey, 's been a while…"

"Minerva" sighed in apparent relief, and then changed her expression back to the stern one she'd worn earlier. She glanced at Edward again, standing up and pushing the tip of the stick against his chest. For some reason, Ed was alarmed.

"What are you doing here? Why are you here with _this_ man?" She demanded. Ed glared at her, preparing to slap his hands together and transmute the stick into a thousand toothpicks. "Black" stood shakily and gripped her wrist, making an attempt on lowering the stick.

"Relax; this guy actually saved me…sorta…" he added sheepishly as Ed raised an eyebrow. "See…I'll explain everything later…let's just see if we can find out more about him…"

The woman glowered at "Black" and lowered the stick. After a tense moment or two, the man released his grip on her wrist and turned to Edward, holding out his hand.

"Sorry, we weren't actually introduced, were we? My name's Sirius Black; just call me Sirius. You are?" Ed looked at the hand warily and took it, shaking it without much enthusiasm.

"Edward Elric," he replied, pulling his hand away and looking at the older woman next to Sirius. "What about you?"

"Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Although her words sounded as if they were meant to sound kind, there was ice in her voice that worried Edward; the last person to talk to him like that was Isumi, and that had been quite awhile ago. In fact…this woman was kind of like Isumi, only older and more…how to put it…well, there was something about her that just seemed to make her seem a lot like his old teacher, but at the same time, completely different. Ed looked at the stick again.

"So…what is this place? And why were you trying to threaten me with a stick?"

McGonagall looked at him questioningly. He could almost see her trying to not ask him something.

"This is Hogwarts, Mr. Elric…" she murmured. "…and this is no stick; it's my wand. You see, Mr. Elric, I am a witch."

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.**

After two hours of explanations from both sides, ten hours of exploration in the castle, and a lot of confusion, Ed felt he had a pretty good grasp on the situation. Initially, he had burst out laughing when he heard her say she was a witch, but she had managed to win his attention again by turning her hat into a bat, calling it back to her with her "wand" and changing it back. That had left Edward silent and gaping until the shock wore off; at that point, he started yelling questions and comments that weren't cohesive at all.

So, as far as he'd been told, this "Hogwarts" place was a school that taught witchcraft and wizardry. It was supposed to be one of the biggest, best kept secrets ever, and no "muggle" could see it. For that reason alone, she had considered him a "wizard" and offered him a place at the school.

In addition, she had explained that there was a ministry set up entirely for keeping magic a secret from the "muggles." There was also a great deal said about some "Voldemort" guy who had plans to wipe out all muggles and such, but Edward was used to that sort of thing. After explaining the basics of the wizarding world, she became immersed in a conversation with Sirius about where he'd been. Once he explained what he knew, Ed was asked for his story.

In order to keep some semblance of ignorance, and to not alert them to the fact that he was a famous alchemist, he wove a tale of being taken by something (he didn't elaborate on what the "something" was, though) and awakening in Munich, unable to return home. He told of his hometown: a quaint, quiet town in the hills. By the end of his story, he had made himself out to be a relatively normal fifteen year old with a few quirks about his friends and family…not to mention that he'd let it slip that he was connected with a military and had to admit that his father was in it…

All in all, though, he seemed to have made a decent impression. When he finally managed to ask to use the phone, they looked at him like he was crazy. After a brief explanation of the lack of electronics in their world, they allowed him to use an owl, so long as they were allowed to read whatever he wrote.

Two short letters. That was what he was allowed to write; his first was to Alphonse.

"Dear Al,

Yo! It's me, Ed. I know, I know…I vanished…but I'm back, Al, and you won't believe where I'm at. I can't say much, but I don't think I'll be home until…okay, I shouldn't be home until Christmas, and that's only _if_ I don't get in too much trouble. Don't worry, I'm fine. I was trapped in another world's town of Munich, and I just got back with a guy called "Sirius Black". Weird name, huh? Anyway, I'll write again later. Oh, and if you want to write back, just give the letter to this owl and tell it to take it to Edward. I don't get it either.

Your brother,

Edward."

The second letter wasn't quite as wordy, and he wrote it almost grudgingly. It had to be written to his most "trusted adult relative". Since he didn't have one, it had to go to Roy. He made it short and to the point, loathing having to write the man's first name instead of "colonel".

"Dear Roy,

Back from Munich, town beyond the gate. Will not be returning until Christmas. Will write if need be. Send reply with owl. No, I don't get it either.

Edward."

He sent the owl with Al's letter off and prepared to give the one to Mustang to the other, but McGonagall stopped him, scribbling something at the bottom of his note and signing it with an official looking signature. She also attached a form, but Ed couldn't make it out. She gave the papers to the owl and sent it off, suddenly looking at Ed again.

"For the record, you _do_ wish to stay here, do you not?"

Ed thought for a moment. This world had _magic_, something that could completely disregard the law of equivalent exchange. There might be a way that he could return his own body back to normal or…or return Al to his correct age, with all the memories he'd lost…at the very least, he could probably learn some way of making things vanish…maybe even ways to bring things _back_.

"Yes…" he decided, nodding slowly. McGonagall nodded briskly and turned to the fireplace, throwing some strange powder into it. She stepped into it and vanished, totally freaking Edward out. She reappeared within a minute, this time holding a very old, very battered looking hat. She read his confusion and held it up.

"This is the Sorting Hat; it places you in a House. The four Houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Gryffindor is my house; it's for courageous people and people with a lot of character. Hufflepuff is the house for the more gentle, kind people with a much loyalty. Ravenclaw houses those with wit and intelligence, and Slytherin is for those who are ambitious, fierce, and have a thirst to prove themselves. This hat decides which house you're suited for and places you. Now, put it on."

Ed did as he was told, jumping as he heard it say something.

_"Huh. This is strange…barriers around your memories and deepest emotions, as well as strength of will enough to withhold them. I can see a lot of qualities in you…but…" _The hat went silent for an entire two minutes. Ed suddenly felt a brief sting deep in his head.

"Ow!" He exclaimed, bringing a hand up to touch his own head. As he did so, the hat called out something.

**_"GRYFFINDOR!"_**

Ed ripped the hat off his head and glared at McGonagall, rubbing the side of his head, even though it no longer hurt.

"What the hell was that thing doing? It _hurt_…" He muttered, ignoring the shocked look on her face. "…More than that, it kept complaining about how it couldn't get to my memories…hey, it's not like I want it in those…argh, that thing's just plain weird…" He finally realized that she was staring at him in shock. "What?"

"It's just…" McGonagall began, swallowing hard. "…th..the previous headmaster here once told me that…never mind…" she said with an eerie sense of finality. Ed stifled a yawn; it didn't go unnoticed by the professor. "Okay, I'll show you your dorm. Come with me."

Ed, strangely, didn't resist.

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.**

Roy stepped into his office, blinking as he saw chaos unfolding. Havok was waving his jacket at an owl, Breda was trying to gather the papers that were flying from Roy's desk, Fury was pressed up against the wall, apparently trying to avoid the crazed antics of Havok, Falman was trying to calm Havok down, and Hawkeye was simply sitting there with a very agitated Hayate. Roy, deciding that she was the only sane one, started to walk towards her. Before he could get to her, though, the owl flew over and landed on his shoulder, holding out a few papers. Roy blinked, looking at Riza.

"This can't be your new way of giving me my paperwork, Lieutenant; it's going a little overboard," he finally said, raising an eyebrow. Hawkeye rolled her eyes, and it was only then that he realized that she was the only thing keeping Hayate from attacking the owl on his shoulder. He wisely shut up and sat on the nearest couch, tugging the papers from the owl. He read the first to himself silently, covering his mouth in a contemplating manner. Riza cocked her head, worried.

"Sir? What is it?" She asked, trying to read his face. He looked up and uncovered his mouth.

"Let me read this…" he murmured, turning his attention back to the letter. "'Dear Roy… Back from Munich, town beyond the gate. Will not be returning until Christmas. Will write if need be. Send reply with owl. No, I don't get it either…Edward'" He finished, glancing over to see her reaction. She looked amazed, but didn't do anything. He returned to reading the letter, eye widening as it traveled over the paper.

_"Dear Mr. Mustang,_

_I am Minerva McGonagall of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a private school in England. Edward will be attending our school for the next year; possibly longer. This is sudden, but we are in desperate need for a Muggle Studies teacher. Muggle Studies, by the way, are classes studying non magic people such as yourself. At the moment, we would settle for anyone. It could be temporary or permanent, so please respond soon._

_In addition, there is a form attached for you to sign. It is a permission form for Edward to be able to visit the nearby village of Hogsmeade. As his guardian, you may decide whether or not he will be allowed to go. Again, respond soon._

_Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress."_

Roy thought it over carefully, going over the facts one by one. Finally, he signed the Hogsmeade form and wrote two words on a sheet of paper nearby, handing both back to the owl. It took them and flew off.

…

_"I accept"_

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.**

Four days after he'd arrived, Edward laid back in his favorite armchair, reading the first of the required books for third year students; he'd just finished the first two years' worth. As far as he'd read, it wasn't all that difficult…just a lot of memorization; well, he was good at that. At the very least, he had that going for him. After all, alchemists had more to memorize than just arrays; they had to know the chemical makeup of nearly everything they could. This was nothing compared to all that…

"Mr. Elric! It's time for you to get your school supplies!"

Ed cringed as he heard the high pitched and excited voice of the Charms professor; Flitwick was the first teacher he'd met outside of McGonagall, but he wasn't exactly his favorite. In fact, the way he talked sometimes…it just bothered him. Regardless, Flitwick was, and remained, the only other _sane_ man in the school at the moment: Filch was just plain creepy and that "Hagrid" guy was…Ed didn't even know how to describe him. Hagrid…seemed to have lost all semblances of realism ages ago.

"Mr. Elric?" Flitwick asked; Ed finally looked down at him, getting to his feet. The old man grinned widely at him. "Let's go! To Hogsmeade, then; your guardian arrived at the same time that your permission slip did! He'll be accompanying us; he even brought you some money!"

Ed blinked, confused; his _guardian_? Did he mean Pinako? But…he'd said it was a "he"…Ed shoved it to the back of his mind and grabbed his bag, tossing it over his shoulder and following the eccentric man out of the room. His jaw dropped when they reached the front gate.

"Co…Mustang!" He nearly yelled, mortified; the man may have had a hat over his eyes, but he knew him. Of all people, _Mustang_ was his "guardian"? The man simply smirked back.

"None of that now, Ed; you know damn well that my name's Roy."

Even though it wasn't stated plainly, Ed could hear the message loud and clear: "Don't you think they'll get suspicious if you don't call me 'Roy'?" He gritted his teeth, following up with an evil grin as he realized something. Roy's smirk faded slightly, looking a little apprehensive about whatever Ed was planning.

"I'm sorry, Roy…" he said innocently, stepping forward and smiling pleasantly. "I just haven't seen you in _such_ a long time…did you get that promotion you wanted so badly?"

Roy visibly gritted his teeth and didn't respond right away. After a few tense moments, his smirk returned; Ed briefly wished he could see his eyes. Normally, that was how he judged how the Colonel was going to insult him; the smirk alone was just scary.

"Not yet, Edward…but, enough about me…so, how was your little 'trip'?" He asked; Ed was certain he'd never heard anything crueler.

"Not…not all that great…" He muttered, looking away. Why, he didn't know. When he finally brought his eyes up to look at Roy, he found that the man was no longer smirking; to the contrary, he seemed upset.

"At least you're alive, Edward…and reasonably intact, for you," he finally said, bringing a hand up to his hat and gripping it tightly. Ed raised his brows, confused; what could Roy be talking about? He got his answer as he looked up and pulled off the cap. "Some of us weren't all that lucky, you know…"

Ed gasped as Roy's face was finally revealed to him. His eye…he only had one eye now! A strange looking patch covered nearly half of his once perfect face, and Ed felt horrible for thinking that he'd had it bad. Sure, he'd been in a different world for awhile, but to lose an eye? They couldn't be replaced like arms and legs!

"Uh…I…what happened?" the younger man asked, trying not to look too upset; Roy chuckled ruefully.

"It wasn't really…I mean…" he touched the patch gently, sighing. "It could've been worse; I'd have hated to lose an arm or a leg…or both. If I remember right, wasn't this teacher going to take us to the village to get your supplies?"

Ed blinked, suddenly remembering that Flitwick was there. He turned to stare at the little man, not sure why it bothered him so much that he had to come with them. The teacher smiled, seeming sad, and shook his head.

"That's quite all right…why don't I just go? If you two want to catch up a little, this would be an excellent opportunity…you won't get many other chances, you know. Unless you two want to see the village…?" The man said slowly, not meeting their eyes. Ed looked at Roy, who nodded briefly.

"Uh…we'll catch up, yeah…" Ed murmured, glancing to the ground as well. "Um…have a nice time…"

Flitwick smiled genuinely at him.

"You, too."

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.**

Ten minutes later, Roy and Ed were seated in the Grand Hall, determinedly avoiding catching each other's eye. It took quite awhile for either to say a word. Finally, Ed swallowed and took a deep breath.

"How have things been in Central?" Good, good; generic questions were perfect.

"…Eventful…" Roy answered, equally vague. He remained silent for another moment, and then looked at Ed seriously. "Edward, I know you don't want to talk about wherever you were, so I won't ask…but I have something I would like to ask you to do for me…first, though, how does housing work here?"

Ed thought for a moment.

"Well, there are four 'houses' from what I've been told…you more or less live there, and in dorms. I'm in Gryffindor, which…well, I know nothing about it, really. Why?" Roy rested his head on one palm.

"Well…frankly, I can't…that is…" He let out a frustrated sigh, obviously embarrassed. "…I can't get around on my own all that well, Fullmetal. My depth perception is gone…I can barely manage around people; I even have trouble walking. I need someone to help me around, and you're the only obvious choice…"

Ed understood what Roy had to be going through; he'd been the same way after he'd lost his arm and leg. Even with the auto-mail, he'd had to get help doing even the simplest things, like brushing his teeth. Maybe it was pity. Still helping Roy Mustang?

"Why me, and not another teacher?" Ed asked, still hesitant. Roy closed his eye.

"Well, I figured that you wouldn't want your housemates knowing about your arm and leg, so I was also trying to do you a favor; was I wrong about that?"

Ed flushed, trying to ignore the guilt crawling up from his stomach. After a moment or two, he assumed that it was safe to talk again.

"If the teachers allow it, I'll do it."

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.**

Rein here! I know, I know…everyone's been trying to convince me to finish stories before starting new ones, but…come on, I just had to do this!

…What I really wonder, though, is why no other authors had Roy be the Muggle Studies teacher. It seems like a pretty obvious thing to do…he's from the muggle world, right? So, why wouldn't people have him teach Muggle Studies? Maybe I shouldn't be asking…

Oh, right…I don't own FMA or Harry Potter; chances are, I never will. What do you know?


	2. Decisions

Roy looked at the younger alchemist's red face in shock. He hadn't really expected Edward to agree; he'd just asked because it had seemed to be the proper thing to do. To be honest, he wasn't sure what to do now; their conversation had entered a standstill, with a beet red Edward determinedly looking away from him and, for some reason Roy couldn't pinpoint, a certain amount of tension missing from his own shoulders.

Just as Ed finally turned back to him, probably ready to ask why the older man was staring at him, the sound of wood hitting stone brought both of their attentions to the doorway. A young man with unruly black hair and an older one with brown stepped in, accompanied by who had to be Professor McGonagall. She appeared to be reassuring them about something, but when she noticed Ed and Roy sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table, she walked over with little hesitation.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Mustang; I'm the headmistress, Minerva McGonagall. It's a pleasure to meet you," She stated stiffly, holding her hand out. Roy removed his glove and shook it; although she raised an eyebrow at his behavior, she didn't question it. The one who _did_, though, was Edward.

"Wait…" he started, eyes widening; the blush from earlier had diminished into two small pink spots on each cheek. "_Professor_ Mustang? As in, he's gonna be a teacher? As in, he's staying here? You don't mean…"

Roy took a moment to smirk and chuckle at Ed's inability to form the rest of his sentence, but then nodded, looking at the young man seriously.

"Yes, Ed; what did you think I meant when I said I needed some help? I'm the new 'muggle studies' teacher here," He scrutinized the younger man's face, continuing in a moment. "I'll give you some time to rethink your answer; just be sure to tell me what it is once you've decided."

Roy barely had time to gauge Ed's reaction before the previously silent teenager from before approached McGonagall. He glanced at Roy once before returning his gaze to the headmistress's face.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but…please, can we see Sirius, Professor?"

The tone in the young man's voice wasn't unfamiliar to Roy, but he couldn't place it, either; it seemed halfway between determination and dread. His eyes flicked over at Ed again for a moment; he knew he'd heard it in Ed's voice before, more than once. Whatever it was this boy was feeling, Ed might have been able to relate to.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, an apologetic look spreading over her face. "Yes, Potter; he's in the hospital wing right now." She turned to the older man behind him. "Remus, I can talk to you later. Go see him."

With a slight nod of the head, the black haired teen turned and started out of the hall, looking over his shoulder to make sure that the older man was following. As soon as they were out of the room, McGonagall turned her attention back to Roy and Ed, expression unreadable again.

"I apologize; the man that Mr. Elric came in with was our Mr. Potter's godfather, Sirius Black. Until a few days ago, we believed him to be dead," she explained. Roy nodded, understanding what the boy must've been going through. When he'd finally made the connection between the letter and Ed being _alive_, he'd felt guilty for ever even believing he'd been dead for a moment. It was like he'd wasted both their time by doing so.

"So, who were those two?" Ed voiced, confusion tinting his tone. McGonagall sighed.

"The boy was Harry Potter, a young man in your dorm; the other man was Remus Lupin, an old friend of Black's. They're the only two people he really considers family anymore," the elderly woman straightened her pointed hat. "But really, I don't see why it matters. Shouldn't you too be getting Mr. Elric's supplies?"

Roy shook his head. "Actually, the man who met us said he'd go ahead and get Ed's things for him; we needed a chance to talk. And, on that topic, I've asked Ed if he'd be willing to stay with me while I'm here; I assume that's not a problem?"

McGonagall looked like someone had slapped her. "Professor Mustang, students and teachers do _not_ live together in this school; it's against the rules." Upon hearing her say this, Roy smirked.

"Well, Edward's never been one to obey rules all that well; in fact, it seems to be a talent of his. I'm aware that rules are made to be upheld, but this is a little different. Ed has a few health problems, and I think it would make him much more comfortable if there was someone staying with him who knew what to do about them," he blinked at the glare he was receiving from the old woman. "However, as I said earlier, it's his decision."

The witch cast him one more withering glare. "What kind of health problems?"

To Roy's surprise, Edward answered. "Well, a lot are pretty insignificant; most have to do with my limbs…some don't work all that well sometimes, and I have to treat them nightly. You don't even wanna know _some_ of the worst problems…"

McGonagall stared pointedly at Ed; at this, Roy began to feel a little uneasy. That was the best Ed could come up with? "Mr. Elric…"

"…and I'm a chimera; my body's rejecting all my organs 'cause of it," the teenager finished, glowering at the woman for interrupting him. Both adults grew silent.

"What are you saying?" McGonagall finally asked. "I don't have a clue what you're talking about; isn't a chimera a mix of several animals? How on earth could you be a chimera…?"

Edward sighed, holding his head. "A chimera can also be a person with two sets of DNA; in my case, my organs have different DNA than each other, so…it causes problems. My body thinks that some organs aren't mine at all; I guess it doesn't want them in me anymore. Besides…" he glanced at Roy, and then looked back at McGonagall. "I haven't made any choices yet, but…Co…_Roy_ only lost his eye a little while ago; he might need help with stuff, so it might be worth it to consider it as a possibility."

McGonagall was mute, and Roy spent a moment in wonder, shocked at just how mature Edward was acting; it wasn't normal at all. He was expecting Ed to start screaming any second now…to act like the Ed he'd grown to know and, regrettably, trust. This was…

…indescribably worrisome and pride inspiring, somehow.

The silent moments between the three of them made Roy's heart pound out of something akin to concern. He had so much that he wanted to say…but he just couldn't say it. There was no way to shatter the ice formed by the lack of noise.

Secretly, Roy hated silence; it made him think too much. Ever since the Ishbal massacre, silence had made him admit things that he'd never wanted to. He was a murderer, a criminal…perhaps, better off dead. So many people had died at his hands; women, children…fathers, brothers…and, although he hadn't had to see the faces of _every_ person he'd killed, every detail of their deaths remained emblazoned in his mind.

Slowly, he feared, it was driving him mad.

Even if they hurt, though, he knew that he wouldn't be who he was without those memories. And…regardless of what anyone tried to say to comfort him, he knew full well that every single time he'd snapped his fingers in that genocide, it had been a conscious decision.

It truly made him a murderer.

He shivered, praying for someone to speak, barely conscious of his surroundings. Now, he had a new truth to go along with all the others. All those years in the military were wasted; there was nothing left of it except for him…him, and those who remained faithful to the state, and not the military.

And it didn't matter; Amestris would never trust a military again.

"I've come to a decision; Roy, are you listening?"

Roy could've passed out from shock and happiness; he slowly became aware of his surroundings again, looking at McGonagall and Ed. Edward was staring at him, and he realized almost belatedly that he'd been zoned out for almost the entire time. He fought against the blush that he knew was threatening, turning his attention to McGonagall, who seemed to want to say something.

"We'll try it, but only until the rest of the students arrive. In other words, you have four days until Edward makes his decision. In two days, the rest of the school arrives; after that, he has two days to spend with the other boys in his dorm. I'm not trying to make you two an exception to the rules, but, assuming it works out that you share a room permanently, that's exactly what you'll be. You _will not_ tell anyone; understood?"

Roy nodded briefly, still recovering from his reminiscences. He quickly looked at Ed, uncertain of what to do next. Ed seemed to be fine with it. "Well, then…I suppose all our business is taken care of?"

"Yes…Professor Mustang, please show Edward to your room; Mr. Filch will lead you there."

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.**

The room was nice, Roy had to admit, but it felt cold. It could have been because the only light came from a candle chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. The corners of the spacious room were dark, even with every candle lit, and the stone walls, lack of windows, and unlit fireplace made it seem like a dungeon. Ed seemed to be scrutinizing the room as well, a small frown on his face.

"Feels lonely, doesn't it?"

Roy blinked as Edward turned to him, expression serious. Without another word, the young man walked to wall opposite the door and clapped his hands together, placing them on the wall. A moment later, the transmutation was complete, and a window was now in place in the middle of the wall, stretching to the ceiling. Ed did this two more times, once over each desk, and walked back to the door. He turned and looked it over.

"Much better; this room needed windows," he smiled gently, finally meeting Roy's eyes again. For a moment, he wondered if Ed could read minds, but dismissed the thought. He simply nodded in response to the younger man's comment and strode over to one of the two king sized beds, throwing himself down on it and sighing heavily. He wasn't sure why he was letting himself be so vulnerable, but he didn't have to wonder for long. Not ten seconds after he'd shifted into a somewhat comfortable position, Edward lay down on the other side of the bed, emulating the older man's sigh.

"This'll take some getting used to," Roy heard himself say, listening to Ed's soft, uneven breathing. "You actually being mature, I mean. Were you acting before? Back when you used to scream every time I say you…was that an act?"

Ed was quiet for a moment. "I can't say that it was, but I'm not sure if it wasn't. It's…complicated."

Roy closed his eye. "Most things in life are, you know. It's so much easier to understand formulas, theories, and every other aspect of science than it is to understand people. Hell, I'd be amazed if I found someone who understood themself. I'm still not au fait with myself…"

"'Au fait'?" Ed asked, sounding confused. Roy chuckled.

"It just means that I don't understand myself, either; something I picked up from spending a little time with Fury. Anyway, back to what you were saying?"

Ed shifted next to him and sighed. "I don't know anything about me. I mean, I was always this cocky kid growing up, and…after the incident with Mom, I've thought more about Al than growing up, so…I was confused. I'm _still_ confused; how am I supposed to know what to do without him?"

Roy thought this over for a second. "What did you do in Munich?" A small, rueful laugh came from next to him.

"I tried to find ways to see Al again. See what I mean? Without Al around, I don't know what I'm going to do next. All these years, I wasn't maturing or…I wasn't _letting_ myself mature, maybe. Was that it?"

Roy turned his head and looked at the boy again, not surprised that Ed could admit it; he was just thinking aloud, after all.

Ed continued, taking a deep breath before speaking. "I don't know what to try to do next. I don't know how to move forward; I spent too much time trying to go back."

Roy put his arms beneath his head. "You've got all the time in the world now, Ed; I think this will prove to be a good experience for you. And, even though it isn't really my place to say this, thank you for being there for your brother all these years," He murmured, finally letting himself actually relax.

"Now it's time to be there for yourself."

"What will I be like?" Ed surprised him by saying. He stared over at him briefly.

"How should I know? All I know is that you can change now. Even with all that I _can_ do, I still haven't managed to learn how to see the future," he suddenly laughed, breaking the serious atmosphere. "But, here's what I know so far: you're not as impulsive, you take things more seriously now, and you're a damn good liar. That stuff about your being a chimera was brilliant…"

"But, that wasn't a lie," Ed interrupted, suddenly sitting up. "It's on the records for the military. I've got two sets of DNA, and it's making my body reject my organs. I thought that you knew."

It was Roy's turn to be surprised. "But…how do you have two sets of DNA?"

Ed laughed bitterly. "The military thinks that it's because I fused with my twin during my mom's pregnancy, but I know better; my organs came from Alphonse. That's why I had to make him a _new_ body; his old one would've just died in a few days. Are you going to tell the Fuhrer now?"

Roy debated with himself for a moment. Should he tell Ed about what had happened within the military? After a few tense moments, he sighed for what had to be the sixtieth time that day.

"Edward, there's no military anymore; it fell apart. I mean…" he touched his patch, smiling in a melancholy way. "…I lost my eye in part of the military rebellion…and I was luck to lose just the one eye. A lot of people are dead."

Ed's face was unreadable; after a few seconds passed without a reaction, Roy continued.

"Still…if your body is rejecting Al's organs, then…you should be sick, at least….right? How many are his?"

The younger man's face remained inscrutable. "My liver and right kidney are from Alphonse. I _am_ sick…but it doesn't matter. Forget about it, okay? It's not important, anyway…"

Roy couldn't answer right away; he was a little busy thinking. This should've been so strange…Ed didn't trust him, from what he knew, and he _never_ opened up about things around him. It was like Ed was a totally different person now. He didn't know what to make of it.

It _would_ take some getting used to.

And, as it turned out, he wouldn't have to answer, after all. Just as Ed sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, the door opened and the short, white haired man from earlier came in, carrying several bags.

"Professor Mustang, I have the things Mr. Elric needs…Minerva told me to take them to you…"

He set the bags down by the door and looked over at the bed, eyes fixing on Edward; almost belatedly, the man let out a gasp. "What is _this_?"

Roy almost laughed. "'This' is anything but perverted, so you know. We were just discussing what Edward missed while he was…gone," he lied, sitting up as well. "I assume that all of Ed's other things are going to be sent down soon, too?"

"What other things?" Ed asked, arching an eyebrow. "What baggage could I have brought all the way from Munich, other than Black?" Roy thought for a moment.

"Good point."

The old man shook his head. "I just don't understand, Professor Mustang; Edward is actually staying with _you_?" A brief nod came from the Colonel. "That's breaking a lot of rules, you know…students don't live with teachers, for one, and he'll have access to your things, and…"

"I'm used to it; Ed's always had access to a lot of my things. I'm his guardian, remember? You can leave now."

Roy's comment was casual, but true. The man sputtered for a moment, and then left the room in a rush. Ed's eyes met Roy's and, without a single word, both of them burst out laughing. The laughter continued for about two minutes straight, and Roy had no idea why they both found it so funny. But then, it didn't really matter.

It just felt good to laugh.

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.**

Two days flew by with no real problems. It had surprised Roy at first, though, that he could live comfortably with another person, let alone Edward Elric. There was just something about him that left Roy at ease; maybe just the air of familiarity. Sure, Ed was a little different now…quieter, less spastic…but he was still the same boy he'd watched over since the first time he'd seen him four years ago.

…Actually, it would be five years…no, six; Ed was turning seventeen in three months, and he'd met him when he was only eleven. It was amazing, really; they'd known each other for six years now. Six years of arguments, sarcasm, and mutual secrets; but that could be behind them now.

For a while, back when Edward and Alphonse were both under his command, Roy had seriously thought of them as his sons, in a way. That was over. Ed couldn't be his son.

He could be a lot more. A friend, maybe; a partner could work. For now, though, he was just a roommate and a student. And that could be all that he was. Where their relationship would go was unknown territory, but Roy wanted to find out nonetheless.

It troubled him a lot; how much it had hurt when Ed had vanished. He hadn't let himself mourn for him; if he did that, it would be like admitting that Ed had ever been more than a simple subordinate, and that he was gone forever. That was something, Roy was sure, no one wanted to think.

And now, it was the beginning of the term, and a feast. He couldn't see Edward anywhere; he'd said something about coming in later, but the feast was already halfway through. For some reason, everyone seemed a little quiet; a few kept staring up at McGonagall's seat every few seconds, almost like they expected someone else to be there. Also, no one was looking at him; the applause had been scattered when he'd been introduced. They seemed so sad about something…was this school that bad?

Suddenly, the door to the right of the teacher's table opened, catching the attention of most of the students. Roy sighed in relief as Edward walked in, looking around. He caught Roy's eye and gave him a small wave, proceeding to find an empty chair next to a girl at the Gryffindor table who had long black hair and tanned skin.

A slight murmur went through the hall for a moment, but died down almost as soon as it had started. Roy was a little put off that Edward had caused more of a stir than he had, but all in all, it was fine. McGonagall wiped her mouth daintily and stood up, calling the hall to silence.

"Everyone, as you may have noticed, we have a new seventh year student among us. Edward Elric is a new Gryffindor from Amestris," She called out, pronouncing the name of the country carefully. "Do make him feel at home here; he's come a long way to attend this school."

Roy could hear a few murmurs in response, but one stood out. A student from the Ravenclaw table loudly whispered to a boy sitting next to him, "Since when does Hogwarts accept transfer students? He probably flunked out of his last school…"

Unable to take this, Roy stood up; the rest of the staff stared at him, and the hall went silent again. He glared at the boy who'd spoken. "Come up here, boy," he commanded in his most official voice. The young man stood up shakily and approached the table; Roy observed him carefully. Good, the boy was intimidated. Now, all he had to do was make an example out of him.

"Give me your name and year, boy."

The boy squirmed. "I'm Augustus Clark, a third year…Professor…"

Roy smirked. "Ah, a third year. Tell me, then, Mr. Clark, are you familiar with the country of Amestris?"

Augustus blinked. "No…I…I'm not…"

The colonel almost laughed at how frightened the kid looked; this would work out perfectly, wouldn't it? "All right, then, here's your first lesson; Mr. Elric, would you come up for a moment?"

Ed did as Roy asked, but made sure to raise an eyebrow at the use of his last name. Once he was in front of the table, he looked at Roy expectantly.

"What's the equation for the difference between the calendar in Amestris and the one here, Edward, if you are to use minutes?" The older man asked, tapping his knuckles on the table. Edward straightened his back and did an almost perfect impression of Roy's smirk.

"Take the year in Amestris and add 49,541,760 minutes."

Roy nodded. "How long did Edward take to solve that equation, Mr. Clark?"

Augustus blinked. "Seconds."

"Good…so, what year is it in Amestris?" the older man asked, looking expectantly at the nervous boy.

"Uh…can I use some paper?"

"No."

The boy's face screwed up in concentration. "Uh…it'd be…um…19…13. Yeah, it'd be 1913."

"Incorrect; it would be 1916. Now, give me the breakdown of silver acetate, Mr. Elric."

Ed took a deep breath. "One atom silver, two atoms carbon, three atoms hydrogen, and two atoms oxygen."

Roy nodded appraisingly and turned to Clark. "What is the name of the compound formed by two potassium atoms, one sulfur atom, and four oxygen atoms?"

Clark squirmed again. "I don't know…"

Roy turned to Ed. "Answer?" Ed sighed.

"Potassium Sulfate."

"Correct again, Mr. Elric. Now, I'll give you one final chance to redeem yourself, Clark; tell me what the muggle law of conservation of matter is."

"This has nothing to do with magic!" Clark exclaimed, looking ready to cry. "How should I know all this stuff? Besides, I'm only thirteen! We don't start learning about chemical breakdowns in potions until _sixth_ year, and that's if we're lucky! Nobody knows this stuff!"

Roy chuckled. "That's the difference between here and Amestris, Mr. Clark. In Amestris, people like Mr. Elric and myself begin learning those things when we're children. You may go back to your seats. Oh, and fifteen points from Ravenclaw for the lip, Mr. Clark; ten points to Gryffindor, Mr. Elric, for all the correct answers."

Roy turned and walked toward the door Ed had left open, leaving the room and heading to his own. The buzz from the hall barely reached his ears as he did so.

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.**

Change of third-person focus: now, we go third person with Ed

After Roy had left, Edward had been bombarded with questions, especially from one brown haired girl at his table. It had taken quite an effort, but he managed to make it to the seventh year dorms in Gryffindor and get changed a few minutes before the rest of his dorm mates trudged up, laughing and joking. Once they were all upstairs, their attention turned to Edward.

"So, you're a new student?"

The boy from a few days ago, Harry, was looking at him strangely, and his question was laced with suspicion. Ed couldn't help but wonder why the teenager didn't trust him; what had he ever done that would make someone not wary around him here?

"Yeah…" Ed met the boy's green eyes and watched them widen in surprise for some reason. "So, why was everyone so quiet during the feast?"

Harry looked down, and Edward recognized the grief on his face. "Our old headmaster was killed last year, so I…_everyone_…was sort of remembering him, I think. Anyway…" he looked up again. "Why're your eyes yellow?"

A redhead cocked his head and looked into Ed's eyes, too. "I dunno, Harry, they look kinda amber to me…"

"Amber?" Another boy said, eyebrows rising. "You've been spending too much time with Hermione. I'd say they're gold."

Ed gritted his teeth. "Will you get off my eye color? I was born with it!" He snapped, flopping back onto the bed. "Anyway, who are all of you?"

Harry went first. "Harry Potter."

"I'm Ron…Ron Weasley," The redhead from earlier said; Ed waited for the others.

"Seamus Finnegan," The third answered, smiling good naturedly. The boy on the bed next to his went next.

"I'm Dean Thomas."

The last one finally went. "I'm Neville Longbottom. Nice to meet you."

Ed nodded. "Right. You know it already, but I'm Ed Elric. Good night."

Without another word, Ed dragged the curtains closed and fell asleep.

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.**

Two days into the term, Roy's patience was wearing out. He hadn't slept well since Edward had left his room, the students in his class were idiots with no idea what anything in the muggle world was, and he hadn't even _seen_ Edward for a whole day. They'd only seen each other at breakfast the first day, and even then Roy was annoyed. And now, it was time for Edward to decide who to stay with.

He didn't have his hopes up; Ed would be much more comfortable with kids his age, not a thirty year old man. So, when Ed stated his choice, his reaction wasn't surprising.

"I wanna stay with Roy."

That simple sentence had been enough to make the older man laugh in relief, and had even brought a small smile to Ed's face…at least, until McGonagall shot both of them glares that rivaled Hawkeye's. They promptly turned their attention to her.

"Fine. Edward, a house-elf will bring your things to your room, then; you might as well just go. However, if I hear a _word_ from anyone about this topic again, Edward will have to stay in the dorms. Do you understand?"

Ed nodded. "Do you think I could go up and get my stuff? I'll need to tell the rest of the dorm that I'm leaving; otherwise, they might get upset or something…"

McGonagall sighed. "Very well…just take Professor Mustang with you."

The two quickly said goodbye, and then left her office, heading up the stairs. Roy had to walk twice as fast as usual to keep up with Edward, and almost fell numerous times. Luckily for him, though, Edward was used to helping him balance, even though he'd only stayed with him for two days. After what could have been a mile long trek, Edward stopped in front of a painting of a fat woman.

"Well, well, Mr. Elric…is that Professor Mustang? What's he doing here?"

Roy felt slightly insulted; what right did a painting have to question his motives? Edward's response was even stranger.

"Red Caps."

The woman huffed indignantly. "Fine then, don't tell me…"

The painting swung back to reveal a door, and Edward led him in. The loud chatter in the small common room from a small group of students up past curfew vanished as soon as Roy made it in, and was soon replaced by whispering. Ignoring it, Edward silently led him up a set of stairs and into a room marked "Seventh Years".

"What's _he_ doing here!"

Ron's voice cut through to Roy immediately, and he cast a glare in the boy's general direction. Apparently, he surmised, nobody in this house cared about curfews. Every single boy in the room was up and about, and all five were staring at him like he'd grown another head. Ed stomped over to the bed marked "Edward" and rooted around for a bit. He finally turned to the other boys.

"I'm moving out of this dorm, and he's helping me get my stuff. Now, who has my transfiguration book?" he demanded, glaring at the others. Harry made an angry sound and reached next to his own bed, thrusting the book at him.

"So, where are you _going_, Ed?" He asked, looking upset. Ed finally snapped, something Roy had been worried would happen for quite some time.

"Why the hell do you hate me so much? And why's _that_ matter?"

Harry was silent for a moment, and then walked out of the room, Ron following suit after a hurried apology on his behalf. Roy stepped towards the fuming blonde and carefully pried his trunk out of his hand.

"I'll get this; why don't you make sure you have everything?"

Although he'd meant to make it sound calming, it came out as more of an order. Ed shot him a hurt look, and Roy felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He knew exactly what it was, but…

Dammit, he did not want to admit it yet.

With a little more force than was necessary, Ed grabbed Roy's free hand and pulled him out of the room. By now, the only people there were Harry and Ron, and both raised an eyebrow at them. Roy could feel their gaze landing on his and Ed's locked hands, and took a moment to try to enlighten Ed to it in the gentlest way possible.

"Edward, I know where to go now; you can let go."


	3. Something There

Chapter Three: "Something There"

To his great surprise, Edward had actually made it to all of his classes on time by the third day of the term. Part of it he attributed to his finally having a _decent_ living area; the other part might have been that he was getting used to his schedule at long last.

And for once, he was feeling normal.

Things were a little harder now, though; his fifth and final class, Herbology, was located in a different greenhouse than usual today. He knew it was either greenhouse five or greenhouse six, but he wasn't entirely sure which it was. Taking a wild guess, he walked into greenhouse six.

The first thing that struck him was the absence of the noise present at every class; all he could hear was something _breathing_. It didn't sound like it was from an animal or a man-eating plant. No, it sounded more like a man.

It sounded like an injured man's labored breathing.

The source seemed to be just behind an enormous brown and yellow bush that seemed determined to block his view. He craned his neck to see around it, but couldn't. After a few moments spent cursing the foliage under his breath, Edward walked over to a stepladder and climbed to the top, straining to look over the shrub. For just a moment, he caught a glimpse of what looked like…

"Look out!"

A hoarse yell came in warning only a second before the attack actually came: not from the front, but from behind. Something yanked him off the ladder and to the ground, temporarily stunning him. He managed to catch himself rather quickly and twisted his body to see what had grabbed him.

A green vine was wrapped around his left leg, its thorns attempting to bore into it. Were said leg actually flesh and bone, Edward would have probably been screaming in pain.

Never before had he been so happy to have prosthetics.

The plant tightened around the metal again just as the door to the greenhouse slammed open. Edward blinked at the sudden light, barely given a moment before the person who had opened it called something out to him.

"You have to pet it!"

The voice and words were familiar, but the advice confused him. He was supposed to pet a plant? How would that help him? Nevertheless, it wasn't as though he had any more _creative_ ideas – like, say, transmuting it into something edible and feeding it to some _other_ man hating plant – so he reached down with his right arm and stroked it as gently as he could. Almost automatically, the plant loosened its grip, and he was able to pry his leg away from it. He got back on his feet, and the boy in the doorway rushed to his side.

"Wait, wait! You can't let the venom spread! Stay down!"

Ed looked over the frantic boy; protruding ears, brown hair, and freckles. This was Neville, right? He'd been subjected to one of his miserably failed attempts at a simple hex in Defense Against the Dark Arts and ended up in the hospital wing for an hour, if he remembered right. It seemed that the only thing the boy was good at was Herbology; possibly Charms. There wasn't any real reason to do so, but Edward found himself reassuring the boy.

"I'm fine, Neville; it didn't bite me or anything. Why don't we get to class?"

Neville shot him an odd look, but didn't push it. Ed was kind of glad, too; he didn't want to have to explain anything right now. The other boy held the door open and ushered Edward through it, following moments later. He pulled a key out of his pocket, locked the door, and turned back to Edward, who arched an eyebrow at him.

"Ah…well, I…Professor Sprout gave me keys to the greenhouses so that I could come study the plants…" he hastily explained, and this answered Ed's questions sufficiently enough. He pointed to a greenhouse further up. "We're in number five today, Edward; we're studying Rhynian Rhoderas, I think. Oh, and speaking of, did that Farnken really not get you? That's amazing…"

Ed made a mental note not to talk to Neville alone again; he was talking _way_ too much. Strangely, though, it didn't bother him as much as it should have; for all intents and purposes, he was kind of enjoying having someone not ignore him.

"You see, Farnkens are really dangerous," the boy continued, and Edward gave him a slight nod, urging him to continue. "Not only are their thorns hard enough to bore through anything, they also have a special acid that they can expel whenever they can't get through something _easily_. It's fascinating really, but--"

Ed stopped walking immediately, staring at his left leg; Neville turned around, and the young alchemist kneeled down, examining his pant leg.

"Shit," he muttered, carefully turning his leg. He wasn't particularly worried about _holes_ in his auto-mail; those could be fixed easily. The problem was when something melted or reacted with the metal. In order to fix it, he would have to know exactly what the reactant had been composed of and in what quantities. And there _were_ chemical burns on his pant leg, too – the evidence of which could be seen as small holes and light orange blotches on the black fabric. He swore again.

"God damn it…"

A hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality, and looking up he saw Neville's worried face hovering over him. He spoke gently, and the raw concern in his voice was almost painful for Edward to hear.

"Are you okay?"

Ed slowly stood up, brushing the dirt off his clothes, and nodded at the other boy. He knew that his voice would betray him; it would make it almost painfully obvious that he was irritated, and he didn't want the other boy to think that it was because of something that _he_ did. He cleared his throat, allowing himself a moment to compose himself.

"Yeah, I'm fine; let's just get to class. We're late as it is…"

Neville still seemed worried, but he nodded in agreement. The two made their way to greenhouse five, managing to sneak in without anyone really noticing them.

"The Rhynian Rhodera is also extremely poisonous, so I want you all to be _very_ careful with them. Wear your protective gear, and make sure to watch what you're doing. Is that understood, class?" The teacher called out. A chorus of 'Yes, Professor Sprout' met her words, and she smiled. "All right, get to work! Longbottom, Elric, come see me, please!"

The rest of the class split up into pairs, a few students looking pointedly at them. Ed tried to ignore them and walked up to the teacher, Neville barely a step behind him. The woman stared down at them, smile falling from her face.

"Will you please tell me why you two were late?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Ed opened his mouth to speak, but Neville got to it first.

"I'm really sorry, Professor Sprout; really, really sorry. I forgot to tell Ed which greenhouse we were in today, and he ended up going to the wrong one. I went to find him and…well, some stuff happened, and…I promise that it won't happen again, Professor. I'm really sorry…"

Neville's voice was steady, but Edward noticed the way his hands shook as he spoke. It must've taken a lot of courage for him to do this; though Edward hadn't a clue why. It wasn't anything major…

The professor nodded, still frowning; Ed had the sudden urge to explain things as they had (almost) really happened – that he'd accidentally gone into greenhouse six by mistake and had _almost_ been attacked by a…what was the word? Funkren? But before he could, the teacher sighed.

"All right then; just don't let it happen again, you two. Get to work – I fully expect three well trimmed Rhoderas by the time class is over. And I _will_ need to talk to you at length after class, Mr. Elric, so don't leave right away," She murmured, meeting his eyes briefly. They were silent for another moment, and then she smiled. "Go on; scoot, scoot!"

Ed nodded, turning and walking to an empty work station. He began to put his gloves and goggles on, but was interrupted by Neville's presence at his side. He turned to look at him.

"Uh…" Neville swallowed, pulling his own gloves on. "We work in pairs for this, so I'll be your partner. I'm the only one left, anyway…"

The alchemist acknowledged this with a simple incline of the head. He reached up to put his goggles on and unintentionally found himself looking straight at the back Harry Potter's head. He was paired up with the brown haired girl he'd been stuck with during Ancient Runes the day before; Hermoise, or something. Hernemone? He couldn't remember her name.

She seemed to know what she was doing, much unlike a lot of other people in the class. He wondered if she was good at _everything_; he'd known people like that. Hell, _he_ was like that, to be honest. If he was serious about it, he could do just about anything wanted to. It was one of the things that separated him from other people his age.

"Hermione, could you hand me those shears?"

Yeah, her name was Hermione. She, at least, was decent to him. They hadn't talked at length yet, but she didn't ignore him like the rest of the school did. It was weird, but he figured that it wouldn't last; eventually, she would ignore him like everyone else did, and he would be just fine with it. It wasn't like it mattered, but…

"Edward, we should start," Neville whispered, snapping Ed back to reality again. Ed nodded, somewhat embarrassed, and reached for a pair of shears almost automatically. Neville pulled out a file and began working on one of the thorns as Ed carefully clipped off a dry, brown branch. The plant wriggled in discomfort, and Ed found it rather humorous. Neville chuckled and smiled.

"So, why were you looking at Hermione?" The boy asked, running his fingers down one of the shrub's thin branches. Ed shrugged.

"She seems smart, is all; I don't get why she hangs out with Potter," he answered plainly, fingering a dead leaf and pulling it off. "She's weirder than I thought she'd be. Not only is she totally obsessed with her grades, she follows the rules like she'll be killed if she doesn't. I don't get people like that."

Neville grimaced and began on a knot in the lower part of the Rhodera. Ed looked over at him, confused.

"Hermione's been one of Harry's best friends since first year; her and Ron Weasley. I don't know what happened, but rumor is that she was attacked by a troll and Harry and Ron saved her. They've been through a lot together. Ack, this branch's twisted…" he muttered, going off topic and becoming silent as he tried to work with the plant. Ed contemplated what he'd just said.

It wasn't as if he cared all that much about her; he'd never really been all that close to many girls to begin with. She seemed to be all book smarts and logic, though, and that bothered him. He didn't like that type of person. It was such a shame, in his opinion, that people with so much promise could just drain it all in books and research into what other people had researched. They never had to do any _real_ work; they didn't even have to understand how conclusions had been made. To a person who had been the one to _do_ so many experiments like Edward, though, it was insulting. Their findings shouldn't be recited from memory. If anything, they should be pushed to further heights.

However, this wasn't something he needed to look too deep into. His thoughts didn't matter so much. It was best to let her do her petty memorization and leave the real work to people like him, after all.

"Okay, onto number two!"

Ed smiled as Neville picked a second plant and set it in front of them. This one really needed work, and he was more than happy to do it. He gripped his shears and began trimming a cottony substance off of one of its sides. He had to be careful, though, not to cut it too short. Winter was coming, and this thing needed to have something to keep it warm. He worked quickly, but efficiently, and it earned him a comment from his partner.

"You're good at this; did you grow up in the country or something?"

Ed blinked at Neville's question, turning to look at him. The other boy was too busy rearranging the Rhodera's roots to notice, and Ed decided to answer.

"Yeah, a place called Resemboole; how'd you know?"

Neville laughed hard, pulling his hands out of the dirt and wrapping his arms around his waist. Ed didn't get why the boy was laughing so hard, and cocked his head in confusion. He eventually calmed down, looking him in the eye at last.

"Sorry, but…'Resemboole'? It sounds really funny…I just couldn't help it…"

Ed supposed that it was, in a way, and found himself laughing and joking along with his new classmate; it was nice not to be ignored.

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.**

Almost too soon, Herbology was over; Ed wandered over to the teacher as the rest of the class was leaving, and waited patiently for the woman to finish arranging a ring of greenery. As soon as she finished, she turned to him and took a deep breath.

"So, Mr. Elric…are you getting along well with your fellow Gryffindors?" She asked, leaning against one of the supports. Ed shook his head.

"No; why?"

He was honestly confused. His teacher had held him after class to ask him about his relationship with his classmates? What was that all about?

"Well…I heard that you've decided to live with Professor Mustang, and I was wondering why. It's not often that a student complains about being with their housemates, and it's _highly_ unusual for one to actually move out of their dorm. May I ask why you decided to?"

If Edward had been confused before, it was nothing compared to this.

"Well…he's my _guardian_, Professor; it's just easier for me to be around him. Besides, I don't get along with people my age all that well; I'm used to the people around me being in their thirties. That's about it."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "You seem to get along fine with Neville," she commented, crossing her arms over her chest again; Ed shrugged.

"He's okay. Others, like Potter…they just bug me." The woman sighed, placing her hands on his shoulders.

"Come to me if you have any problems with Professor Mustang, okay?" She asked, looking him straight in the eye. "Even the best relationships have problems, and I don't think you need to worry about them sounding stupid. So, come to me."

She straightened up and stretched, smiling. "Well, head off to dinner, now; I'll be there soon."

Ed nodded, and he turned to leave. He made it halfway to the castle before he remembered something that he wanted to check out. Without skipping a beat, the young man turned back and walked straight to greenhouse six, trying to look through the foggy glass. After a moment, he made his way back up, intent on dinner and a little chat.

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.**

Ed stepped over to the Gryffindor table and sat down next to Neville, reaching out for a chicken leg and a napkin. He took a bite and savored it for a moment, and then began to chew, slowly. A feeling brought him to look up at the teacher's table, and he met Roy's eyes, pausing for a moment. The older man waved, almost disinterestedly, and went back to eating what Ed _hoped_ was some kind of fish. Acting like it hadn't happened, Ed continued with his own meal.

"Do you and Professor Mustang know each other, Edward?" Neville asked, reaching for his goblet of pumpkin juice. Ed just nodded, wiping his mouth and picking out a rather large orange from the fruit plate. After he swallowed the last of his chicken, he turned to Neville, peeling his orange; he hated doing it manually, but he didn't want to do any alchemy right away.

"Yeah, we came from the same town," he answered, sectioning his fruit. Neville reached over and stole a piece.

"Resemboole?" He asked, popping the wedge in his mouth. Ed shook his head.

"Nah, I moved out of Resemboole when I was eleven. We both lived in Central City, Amestris, and before that, we lived in East City, near a town called Youswell. Why did you ask?"

Neville shrugged.

"Well, when he came in with you to get your stuff yesterday, it seemed like you two knew each other really well. Ron thought you might be family, but everyone could kinda tell you weren't. You don't seem _that_ alike, you know," He explained, reaching across the table for a breadstick. Ed scoffed.

"Actually, I'm nothing like a lot of my relatives were," he murmured, grabbing a breadstick for himself. "My mom was really nice, my dad was…a bastard, and my brother…" he trailed off, staring at his plate. He sighed. "Al's got a really good heart; he's a way better person than I'll _ever_ be."

Neville didn't push it. "So, you _are_ related to Professor Mustang?" Ed shook his head.

"Not by blood, no; he's been my guardian since I was twelve," he answered, burying his face in a bowl of soup; he drained the contents and set the bowl down, sighing contentedly. He unfolded a second napkin and began piling some food on it. He noticed Neville's questioning stare and smiled at him.

"In case I get hungry later; we're not allowed to wander the halls at night, right?"

Neville nodded, and the two fell into silence. Once he'd filled his napkin, he folded it closed and placed it in an inner pocket. He felt around said pocket for a moment, and then curse softly.

"Damn! Neville, can I borrow the key to greenhouse six? I must've left my notebook in there," he muttered, holding his head exasperatedly. The other boy seemed hesitant, and Ed sighed. "Look, it's really important, Neville; I'll get the key back to you at breakfast tomorrow. Besides, I know to be more careful now. May I _please_ borrow it?"

Neville hesitated for a moment longer, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out the key. He looked at it as if he were deep in thought, and then held it out to Edward.

"Don't tell anyone, okay?"

Ed nodded, taking the key. Neville smiled wanly, pushing his chair out from the table. The alchemist followed his lead, stretching as he stood. He turned to his classmate and gave him a serious look.

"This stays between us, okay? That notebook is _personal_ business, and this key is a secret, right?" Neville nodded in response to Edward's words, and Ed grinned. "Okay, then; see you tomorrow morning! Good night!"

He began to walk out of the hall, only to be met by Professor Slughorn halfway down the stairs that led to the landing. The rounded old man raised an eyebrow upon seeing him.

"Ah, the transfer student; where exactly are you going?" He asked. Ed looked around him and settled on an excuse.

"I was just going to check the house points, Professor, and then I was going to head up to bed," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind his left ear. The teacher nodded approvingly.

"Ah, so you have house spirit, even when separated from your house! Excellent, excellent; I'm very impressed. Well, why don't you take an extra five points for your house, then? Well, I must be going; I have things to attend to, after all. Hurry up," the jolly old man smiled and continued up to the hall. Edward watched as he walked through the door, and then rushed out to the outdoors.

Almost immediately, he found himself running down towards the greenhouses. He made his way to number six and pulled out the key; he placed it against the keyhole, and then frowned. The young alchemist kneeled down and piled up a handful of small stones. He clapped his hands together and placed them against the minerals, making an exact replica of the key. He pushed it into the lock and turned it.

Perfect. The keys apparently didn't have spells on them, but he'd had to check nonetheless. He carefully opened the door, squinting to try to see in the darkness.

The breathing; it was there again. He stepped in, shutting the door, and pulled out the wand he'd been given by Flitwick, whispering "Lumos" under his breath. He stood still for a moment, and then moved forward, trying to find a way around the brown and yellow plant from earlier. He sighed, and then, gently as possible, called out in the silence.

"Hey…how do I get around this?"

There wasn't an answer, and he was fine with it. He walked to the side opposite the plant and clapped his hands together again, this time placing them on the ground itself. He made a small tunnel under the plants and crawled through, coming out in a small clearing, surrounded on all sides by plants. Something was pressed against the back of his head.

"Who are you?" A raspy voice asked, and Ed let out a small chuckle.

"I was right; there was someone in here. My name's Edward Elric; mind removing the death threat?"

The pressure remained, and Edward, although he would never admit it, was beginning to get a little worried; whoever this was, they really didn't want to be seen.

"Are you a student?" he heard the man say; Ed nodded, and the man growled. "What are you doing here?"

Ed sighed.

"Look, I don't know who you are, why you're hiding in a greenhouse, or what you're up to. I heard you earlier, and I figured I at least owed you a meal," he grumbled. "You tried to warn me that some plant was attacking me; I don't like being in debt, so this is my way of paying you back. I won't even look at you if you don't want me to."

The pressure increased for a moment, and then vanished. Edward heard heavy footsteps and then a small grunt as the man apparently sat down.

"It's okay; just bring that food over here." Ed turned around and stared at the man sitting before him in wonder.

He had reasonably long, greasy black hair, dark eyes, a hooked nose, and an unhealthy pallor to his skin. His robes were torn and bloody, and he looked as though he hadn't eaten in days. In addition, his left arm was missing altogether, and he looked exhausted. Ed was amazed he was alive.

He didn't wait any longer, and walked over to him, pulling out the napkin full of food. He handed it to the older man; to his surprise, the man opened it carefully and began to eat slowly, not ravenously or like Ed had expected a starved man to. He seemed extremely classed, and was careful not to waste any of the meal. He finished about a seventh of it and folded the napkin again.

"This came from the Grand Hall, didn't it?"

Ed nodded, sitting down opposite the man. The black haired stranger looked him over carefully, and then reopened the food, nibbling on a piece of toast. As he ate, he continued to examine the young alchemist, and Edward was very sure that the man was deciding whether or not to trust him.

"I don't remember you; what year are you?" The man asked, his voice coming more icily than before. Ed shrugged.

"Well, I just transferred in this year; I'm a seventh year," he answered, resting an arm on his leg and closing his eyes. "Did you used to work here or something?"

The man didn't respond for a few minutes, and Edward began to wonder if he was feeding a mass murderer or something. Whoever this guy was, he didn't want Ed to know anything about him. In a way, he was fine with it; it wasn't like he hadn't spent time with criminals before. After all, they usually had information he needed.

The man finally answered his question.

"Yes, and I'm sure you've heard about me; my name is Severus Snape," the man whispered. Ed opened his eyes.

"No, actually; I haven't heard anything about you. Why would I?" He asked, honestly curious. 'Severus' laughed ruefully.

"Because I murdered the last headmaster."

Ed wasn't surprised to hear that he was feeding a murderer so much as he was to hear the man say it so calmly. He slowly looked over the other man's face for any signs of emotion, finding none. Without thinking about it, he gave the man a strange look.

"Why on earth would you tell me that, Severus?" He asked, cocking his head. Snape shrugged.

"Well, I _was_ planning on murdering you before you can leave this greenhouse; now, though, I don't feel that you're much of a threat. You're not acting upset at all. Dare I ask why that might be, Elric?"

Ed sighed. "I really don't care yet; maybe if you told me why you killed him, I might get angry at you or something, but I wouldn't report you. I don't trust authority, and I really don't like having to take credit for stuff like that. Besides, I've been around a ton of murderers; you might call me one, even."

This seemed to pique the older man's interest, but not in a positive way. His dark eyes narrowed, and he frowned.

"_You're_ a murderer?" He asked, and Ed wondered how to respond. In the end, he just nodded and looked to the ground.

"More or less; I accidentally killed a man named Majahal, someone named Greed, and a few others…" he muttered, trying not to think about it. "But…Greed and the others weren't human anyway, so…I don't know what you'd call it…" Snape looked over at him with great interest evident in his eyes.

"Not human? What were they?"

Ed sighed. "You'll laugh, but…they were homunculi…"

Snape's eyes widened, and he looked as if he wanted to ask a question; he didn't, though, and instead went back to eating a piece of chicken. He took an extra minute to shift into a more comfortable position, and then he met Edward's eyes again. The alchemist stood up and brushed off his pants, walking towards the hole. He slid his legs in and got ready to leave, but then remembered something.

"So…" Ed found himself saying. "Exactly why did you kill the last headmaster?"

A pained look crossed Snape's face.

"Because he asked me to."

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.**

If Edward could've had anything he wanted, it would have been a map.

Or so he thought to himself as he tried to find a way back to his and Roy's room. The normal route he took was blocked by several overturned shelves – something, he had no doubts, that poltergeist he'd seen yesterday had done – and finding a new one wasn't exactly easy. Nothing was working so far, and he was just about ready to quit and sleep in a classroom, when an open door attracted his interest. All the other doors had been shut and locked so far.

And so, being the kind of person that he was, Edward Elric found himself walking into an unused classroom and looking around.

There was nothing really all that out of the ordinary, but something still seemed different about it. He'd heard some saying about it once, but he couldn't recall what it was; something about trusting your instincts. And, just as he was about to give up, he stumbled upon a door in the back - a storage closet.

There was no harm in looking, he supposed, and he carefully opened the door. He looked inside and raised an eyebrow.

A mirror.

He looked around the edges, trying to decipher whatever it said. He couldn't, though; not with as little energy as he had. Instead, he just reached out to wipe some of the dust off of it.

From inside the mirror, a tiny fist followed his.

Ed drew back, confused, and stared into the dirty mirror. It was hard to see, but that was fixed easily enough; he pulled it out, amazed at how light a mirror of its size could be, and carefully brushed the dust off with his sleeve. Content that it was clean, he looked back in it again.

The mirror wasn't reflecting his image; just the opposite, it was showing two people. One of them looked like him – maybe – with his hair tied back in a loose ponytail. He was grinning widely, looking at the person next to him.

It was Roy.

But somehow, it seemed like he was different. He almost looked younger, like he was…oh. Ed knew what it was; the older man had _both_ of his eyes. The mirror-Roy slipped an arm over the mirror-Edward's shoulder, and pulled him close. The two stood there for a moment, and then the mirror-Edward turned and pressed himself against the mirror-Roy's body. The mirror-Roy leaned down and…

Ed couldn't tear his eyes away; somehow, it didn't disgust him, or even bother him, for that matter, to see himself kissing Roy so passionately. He stood, transfixed, even as he watched the mirror-Roy lay Edward down on a bed that the _real_ Edward recognized as one of the beds in their shared room and begin sucking on his neck.

What the hell was this?

And, as if on cue, Roy entered the room at that very moment.

Edward turned around, shocked to see the older man looking around the room. When he spotted Ed, he sighed in apparent relief and walked over to him. The younger man could feel the blood rushing to his face.

"Here you are; I was wondering if Peeves' barricade had gotten in your way. What were you doing, anyway?"

Ed tried to answer, but he couldn't; he was absolutely mortified, wondering what Roy would think when he saw what was going on in the mirror. And, just as this thought passed through Ed's head, Roy looked past him, and into the mirror.

"Oh…the Mirror of Erised…" he murmured, stepping closer. "Flitwick was telling me about this…"

Ed watched as Roy's eye widened, and he brought a hand to his mouth. He closed his own eyes, willing the blood to leave his face, to go _anywhere_ else.

And it did. Once he closed his eyes, he could clearly see the images from the mirror again…only _more_ so. Roy was kissing him deeply, carefully removing his shirt and running a hand over his body…moving down to nip and suck at his neck…allowing Edward to remove _his_ shirt…

Ed snapped his eyes open at once, horrified. Not only was his blood now rushing _down_ where it shouldn't, it was going there with Roy _in the room_. He wished it was in his face again.

And Roy finally turned to look at him, bringing about even more embarrassment.

"Do you know what this mirror does, Ed?"

Edward shook his head, wishing the Roy would look somewhere else; just the slightest aversion of the eyes could show him…

"This is called the 'Mirror of Erised' – and the words around its edge read 'I show not your face, but your heart's desire'. This mirror shows you exactly what you most wish for, even if you don't realize it. So, what did you see?"

Ed swallowed hard. "What about you?"

To his shock, Roy looked equally uncomfortable. He hoped that it meant that the older man would drop the topic; and, as if someone had heard what he'd hoped, Roy did exactly that.

"Let's just go to bed, Edward; we'll talk about it later."

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.**

Yo! Chapter three is done; finally! I'm so glad…even if is being completely evil again. Why on earth do I have thirteen infractions and counting? They're so mean…

Oh, and I'm a little afraid right now; someone started a fanlisting in my name. I guess it's an honor and everything, but I'm really shocked that someone would do that. I mean, I'm not a very good author yet, and people flame me all the time…and I write risqué things without thinking, and I barely ever revise my work, and I don't update more than one fic at a time, and…oh, I just don't get it! I'm a little happy, but mostly confused; why on earth would someone like my writing that much? And…what's sad is that they didn't even make it to my writing…they made it the "Rein Kishuku" fanlisting.

…Does anyone else find that strange?

But…well, if I keep obsessing over it, it'll be a quick trip to vanity, and I don't want that. Anyway, what do you think of the fic? Please review! If you like it, please tell me what I'm doing right, and if you don't, tell me what you _don't_. In fact, just tell me whatever you may want to say about this fic! I'm all about expression!

Right, right…one of my editors just told me to move on to the disclaimer. So, here it goes:

**_WHY ON EARTH CAN'T I OWN THESE? FMA AND HARRY POTTER SHOULD _SO_ BE MIXED! IF I OWNED THEM, I CAN GURANTEE THAT THEY WOULD BE COMBINED, AND THAT THIS WOULD BE THE STORY! PETITION!_**

There. Anyway, I'll see you later! Thank you for continuing to read my attempts at writing, and I hope that someday I _will_ exceed your expectations!

Rein Kishuku


	4. Mysterious Ways

Chapter Four: "Mysterious Ways"

Edward hadn't much hope for sleep that night.

Mentally, Edward cursed a certain mirror; if it hadn't been there, he could have rested easily. Instead, he spent his whole night thinking about the entire thing. His "heart's desire" was to get fucked by Roy Mustang? There was no way!

He was also curious, though, and that was what frightened him. He couldn't help it, and kept on staring up at Roy as he changed into his bedclothes. The older man wasn't any different, and neither was Ed; somehow, though, Ed couldn't help but feel as though something had changed. He didn't want to think too much about it, though.

But he knew things wouldn't be the same anymore. What he'd seen would make him see things differently now; whether it be the way that he led Roy by the hand from time to time, their evening routine, or even the way he saw himself in the mirror. Things were going to be _distorted_.

He knew that he had to think about something else, and as he climbed into bed, he wracked his brain for another thought. He began trying to concentrate on some chemical formulas, and found his mind wandering to time spent at the library with Alphonse. Good, that was somewhat positive; it hurt, though, because he had yet to hear back from his brother; how long did it take for an owl to get to and from Resemboole? As he _attempted_ to ease off the topic, a voice popped into his head.

_"Sorry, but…'Resemboole'? It sounds really funny…"_

Ed let out a slight chuckle, thinking back to their pointless chitchat. Neville was slow, naïve, clumsy, overly-kind, and had a serious inferiority complex, but Ed didn't mind. There was something about him…the blonde couldn't help but feel like they'd been friends for years.

Why would he be friends with someone like _him_, though? They were polar opposites: introvert, extrovert; thick, sharp; smart…not so smart. Ed had nothing in common with the boy except for gender; they even came from different countries.

Ed turned onto his side, trying to come up with any reason _why_ he wanted to be friends with Neville. It was just the kind of person he was, really, that made him have to find reason in everything. He never acted without reason, and he always made absolutely certain that things were clear in his own mind before he believed them. Some called him paranoid, since it made him not trust others, and others called him overly-skeptical; to him, though, it was a normal thing – a way of getting through life.

But now, he couldn't find a single reason why he felt the way he did; it brought out a strange feeling in his chest, almost a burning sensation. He tried to ignore it, delving for more reasons – the way he talked, his looks, even his hands – and stopped upon noticing that the feeling was stronger than before.

Slowly, he realized that he was aggravated.

He could've laughed at himself just then; he'd been lying in bed trying to figure out why he wanted to be friends with someone, and had managed to find nothing to answer his question. He'd gotten _annoyed_ at himself.

Ed closed his eyes, grinning; now that he wasn't concentrating so hard, it was clear to him _why_ he wanted to be friends.

While everyone else was showing off, being polite, or trying to put forth some weird image of themself, Neville was silently, stupidly doing just the opposite: he was being completely and totally genuine. He was naïve enough to take things at face value, to completely believe everything that he saw until someone explained otherwise. He didn't try to make an impression, brag, or even hide his worst emotions; all he did was tell the truth, in his own way.

And, Ed understood now, that was all the reason there needed to be. The alchemist was jealous of that single trait, and he somehow wanted to be around someone who displayed it so obviously.

In a way, he was hoping that it would rub off on him.

He found himself falling asleep, and gladly surrendered to the weight of his own exhaustion; content enough to simply sleep with this one bit of knowledge.

**This is a break line; it has nothing to do with the story.**

It was still dark when Ed forced himself out of the castle, his eyes having barely adjusted to the faint light of the pseudo-dawn. He made sure that no one was around and slipped into the greenhouse marked 'SIX,' locking the door behind him. The young man sighed, trying to remember where Severus had been sitting before. After a moment, he gave up.

"Severus, I'm coming in; get away from the hedge," Ed said, barely louder than a whisper. He waited for a moment and transmuted a hole in the plants, stepping through and transmuting it back. Once he was finished, he turned to face the older man; said man raised an eyebrow.

"What are you doing here?" he asked weakly, wrapping his arm around his body and straightening his posture. Ed glared at him.

"What, you think I'm here because I have some sick interest in horticulture? I came to talk to you about something – what else _would_ I be doing?" he snapped, plopping down and reclining against the hedge. "It's like you don't trust me…"

"I don't," the older man groaned, his hand going to his head. Ed wanted to smack him. "You haven't known me for 24 hours, even – do you think we're 'friends' or something? Besides, you're an alchemist; that's pretty conspicuous in and of itself."

Ed gritted his teeth as Severus spoke, trying to remain calm. Finally, he took a deep breath, freezing as a vile stench met his nose.

"What the – what's that _smell_? It's like…it smells like a corpse, like rotting flesh, like…" he trailed off, eyes falling on the empty sleeve where Severus' arm had once been. "Shit…don't even try to tell me…"

A sick smile graced the older man's face for a moment; he let out a small chuckle.

"I don't have to say a word, do I?" he murmured, closing his eyes. "You know the smell, then?"

Ed nodded, clapping his hands together. Immediately, he slammed them against the ground and glared at the older man. Severus gaped as the ground came up and cuffed his legs, the roots of the nearby foliage pinning his remaining arm. He looked like a prisoner.

Once he had the man trapped, Edward kneeled at his left side. Steady hands found the seam of the sleeves and tore the whole thing off. The smell grew worse, and Ed ripped the shoulder too, eyes traveling over the flesh.

"I knew it; gangrene," he whispered, trailing his fingers over the blackened flesh. It had spread from the point where the arm had been severed all the way to his shoulder. The diseased flesh spread over about six inches – it had to be cut off before it spread any further. Ed swallowed, glaring at the older man.

"Why the hell did you let it get so bad?" Ed demanded; Severus didn't answer, and that was answer enough. The young man sighed heavily, transmuting the torn fabric of the sleeve into a rope and some gauze.

"You realize that dying won't bring him back, right?" he whispered, tying the rope around Severus' shoulder, just above the final lines of green-black flesh. Severus glared at him. "No matter what you do, you can't bring him back. That guy you killed – he's _gone_, Severus, and you have to live with that. You wanting to die…that's an insult to his memory."

Snape remained silent as Ed clapped his hands together, grimacing. He pressed them to the older man's skin, near the rope, and watched as the diseased flesh separated cleanly from the shoulder. The dark haired man jerked hard, letting out a soft cry. He panted, blood dripping from the fresh would. Ed placed the flesh on the ground and transmuted the rope around Snape's shoulder into a bandage, wrapping it tightly to stem the bleeding. After he had finished, Ed sat back and sighed, the older man glaring at him.

"Do you have any idea how much that hurt?" he hissed, still panting. Ed nodded, pulling off his glove and rolling up his sleeve. The metal of his arm shone brightly in the slight light of the sun.

"Yeah; actually, I do. I lost my arm and leg when I was about eleven. Don't even _talk_ about pain until you put up with getting a replacement like mine," he muttered, watching Severus' face. The older man stared at the prosthetic limb, face completely unreadable. "I didn't think you would, though, once you'd seen this. I think I know what you're like, anyway."

Snape raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh?"

It was a challenge, and Ed was all too eager to take it up.

"You're stubborn, proper, and loyal. Deceptive, maybe, but you're definitely loyal. That's kind of up to debate, though; you also seem like the type who can easily walk the line between sides. You're more loyal to _people_ than you are to positions. You're also sarcastic, good with language – well-educated. I'd call it the 'bastard child' complex."

Severus didn't even blink.

"I'm not a bastard," he murmured, running his hand through his dark locks. "As for you…I'd say that you're under the impression that your life has been harder than anyone else's. You know that you're smarter than your classmates and feel no need to flout that about, which I take to mean…" he twitched slightly and his hand went to his shoulder for a moment. "…to mean that it's gotten you in trouble. You're empathetic, too - textbook 'tragic hero' complex."

Ed raised an eyebrow and pulled his glove back on.

"'Tragic hero,' huh?" he muttered, eyes narrowing. "I don't know many 'tragic heroes' out there. Do all of them destroy their families, cause the deaths of their friends, and die?" Severus _did_ blink this time.

"What do you mean, you 'died?'" he asked, pushing himself forward. "From where I'm sitting, you look pretty alive."

Ed chuckled darkly.

"I've died twice, Severus. I can't give you too much detail, but the first time was in an accident and the second was murder. Both times, the price to return was way too much. I have no intention of living that way anymore," he whispered, clenching his fists. "Anyway, I have to get back to the school. Thanks for the chat."

As Ed stood to leave, Severus made a small noise of protest. He turned around impatiently, cocking his head in question.

"I thought your name was familiar; I read about you once. It was in a newspaper from Amestris I picked up. It was something about you passing the State Alchemist Certification Test almost five years ago. So, you're the Fullmetal Alchemist?"

Ed nodded, mouth dry.

"Am I that well known here?" he asked, trying to remain calm. Severus nodded, much to the young man's dismay.

"People only know about the greatest alchemists of all time here – Nicolas Flamel, the Light Alchemist, the Flame Alchemist, Tse Chen Yao, and the Fullmetal Alchemist – but not by name, necessarily. Each known for their own reasons," he grunted, shifting his body upright. "Flamel made a Sorcerer's Stone almost six hundred years ago, the Light Alchemist provided insight into horcruxes made by a different type of stone, the Flame Alchemist lead troops in the infamous Ishbal conflict – yes, Edward, even we know about that," he added when Ed's jaw dropped. "And he's known as one of Amestris' most famous colonels. Tse Chen Yao is known for his theories on 'human transmutation,' and the Fullmetal Alchemist is not only the youngest alchemist in history to become one of Amestris' recognized militants, he's also famous as a 'hero of the people.' People learn about him in Muggle Studies, History of Magic, and various books."

Ed swallowed hard, trying to think rationally.

"People here aren't against alchemists, are they? I mean, if someone recognized me…" he gestured wildly, trying to get an answer. Snape almost smirked.

"If someone recognized you, they would react one of two ways – educated people would probably be either angry or afraid of you, while uneducated people who just heard your title would start a riot. Amestris' State Alchemists aren't welcome here, normally."

Edward nodded in understanding. He shot Snape a look as he made his exit.

"If you let yourself die, I'm gonna dance on your corpse."

Severus just waved goodbye.

**This is a break line; it has nothing to do with the story.**

The next morning, Roy awoke to the sound of Edward's footfalls and his own mattress squeaking. He remained absolutely still, willing it to somehow be Sunday; he really didn't want to have to get up and face his cold room, let alone _teach_. All he wanted to do was sleep, warm and content in his own bed.

Just as he was beginning to fall asleep again, a flash of light burned his shut eyes; he grunted, yanking the sheet over his head. There weren't any disturbances for a moment, at least, and Roy curled up again, satisfied with just staying there. He breathed deeply, slowly drifting off.

"_Wake up,_" he heard Edward command; he sighed, slowly picking his head up and meeting the blonde's eyes, barely able to keep his own open. The younger man was the first to look away, and he jerked Roy's sheet away, throwing it onto the ground and glaring at him for a moment. The colonel promptly buried his head under a pillow.

"_Professor_ Mustang, get up _now_," Ed hissed, more insistent than before. Roy ignored him again, trying to concentrate on what little warmth he could find on his bed. After another few seconds, he heard a heavy sigh.

"If you're not up in three seconds, I'm going to set your hair on fire," the younger man warned, and that was all it took for Roy to sit up, rubbing his eye blearily.

"Morning…" he muttered, looking up at Edward blankly. Even though he wasn't all that much of a morning person, he could tell that something was wrong. His subordinate was slightly pink and carefully avoiding his gaze. Roy made a note to think about it when he was actually thinking coherently; any thought on the matter now could lead to freakishly obscene conclusions.

He swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and stretched, feeling his back pop in several places. It was strange to hear it, still. When he'd been enlisted into the military, he _never_ popped _anything_ just by stretching. Now, though…he felt old.

Edward turned to his trunk and pulled out a clean robe, slipping it over his shoulders. For a moment, Roy wondered when the boy had gotten dressed.

"I'm gonna head down to breakfast. Don't expect me to make any excuses for you if you fall back asleep, Colonel."

Roy allowed himself to sit there, staring at nothing, while the younger man exited the room, his footsteps fading as he walked further and further away. He was sorely tempted to just lie back down and fall back asleep, but he knew he had to teach; he couldn't put _that_ off as easily as paperwork. No, he had to wake up, get down to the hall, and then teach a bunch of teenagers about how modern appliances worked.

The man sighed, heaving himself from his bed, resigned to the fact that he would probably get no further rest for the next few hours.

He was so distracted that he didn't even notice the exceptional amounts of owls outside.

**This is a break line; it has nothing to do with the story.**

The first thing Edward noticed when he entered the Grand Hall was the chatter…or, in this case, lack thereof. Everyone was silent, and he had little time to wonder why. Neville approached him, fear evident in his eyes.

"Edward, look at this!"

Before he could even begin to make out what "this" was, it was shoved into his hands. Ed's eyes widened as he looked it over, almost afraid of what he saw.

**This is a break line; it has nothing to do with the story.**

When Roy finally made it to the hall barely ten minutes before his first class started, something seemed off. No one said good morning, no one seemed all that interested in talking to him…in fact, no one seemed interested in even looking at him. Everyone was silent – even the usual clicking of utensils was absent. Large groups of students were gathering, and he was suddenly quite aware that a good amount of the students appeared…scared.

"Yo, Roy…!"

A few people looked up as Edward made his way up towards the head table, but their attention didn't last long. Roy met Edward halfway, confused, and noticed that the boy was slightly pale. In his hand was a copy of a familiar-looking paper – the "Daily Prophet," if he remembered right.

"What is it?" He asked, glancing over the front page. A man with long-ish black, greasy hair, dark eyes, and a hook-nose glared back at him from a black and white photo. The headline read "SEVERUS SNAPE DEAD" and a subscript beneath it saying "Death Eater Wanted for Murder of Hogwarts Headmaster Slain."

The older alchemist raised an eyebrow; why would Edward freak out over the death of some criminal that he'd never met? Before he could voice anything resembling a question, Edward flipped a few pages and pointed a completely different article, shoving it towards Roy. The older man felt his mouth go dry.

"**TWENTY DIE IN ATTACK ON RESEMBOOLE, AMESTRIS. DEATH EATERS HELD RESPONSIBLE.**

Two weeks ago, a band of Death Eaters led by a Mr. Timothy Cragwellow attacked a small town in Amestris known as Resemboole, killing eighteen muggles. In the fight that ensued between ministry officials, one Death Eater and Alan Hashmen, an auror, were killed.

'This attack comes as a great shock to us,' stated the Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour. 'It is exceptionally rare that we have any contact whatsoever with Amestris.'

Amestris is a country located within the Baltic Peninsula, famous for its powerful military and numerous alchemists. It is also renowned for its prosthetics, deserts, and large cities. It is highly unusual in that the country itself is said to have few witches and wizard, although there are currently two in Hogwarts – a transfer student, Edward Elric, and a new teacher, Roy Mustang. Whether or not Mr. Elric is of any relation to Alphonse Elric, a young boy severely injured in the attack, has yet to be determined."

Roy attempted to swallow around the lump in his throat, scarcely willing to meet the younger man's eyes. Edward took the paper back from Roy with steady hands, folding it and taking a deep breath.

"Roy…" the boy's voice betrayed his calm actions, raw and fearful. "Alphonse…I need to go see him…"

He sounded like a child.

Roy nodded, looking around the hall. No one was looking at them except for some boy at the Gryffindor table; the kid seemed concerned, if the way that he kept on fiddling with his form meant anything. Ed followed his gaze, crossing his arms.

"Neville; he's a friend of mine. Pointed out the article, actually; he was trying to find the second part of the article about Se…" Ed trailed off, running a hand through his bangs. "…Severus Snape, the old DADA teacher."

The older man realized at once that he had yet to say a word in response to Edward. He cleared his throat, placing a hand on Ed's shoulder.

"Go pack some clothes into a bag," Roy murmured, scanning Ed's face for some sort of reaction. He found none. "I'll explain everything to McGonagall. Make sure you pack some for me, too."

Ed gave a curt, breathless nod of the head and rushed out in a whirl of black, blonde, and red. No one paid him much mind, Roy noticed, except for Neville, who seemed ready to run after him. The alchemist shook his head, motioning for the boy to sit again; he did so, but kept his eyes on Roy's face the whole time.

Roy made his way to Professor McGonagall, clearing his throat to get her attention. Her head snapped up so quickly that the man almost expected to hear a snap. Apparently, she'd been so absorbed in her paper that she was scarcely aware of her surroundings. She raised an eyebrow.

"Professor Mustang; what do you need?" the old woman asked, a hand coming up to rub her neck. Roy straightened his back and looked her straight in the eye.

"Edward Elric's brother, Alphonse, was injured in the attack on Amestris a week ago; Ed _has_ to see him," he stated quietly. McGonagall's expression changed to one of shock, eyes widening and eyebrows flying up beneath her hair.

"Amestris was attacked? You don't mean…" she trailed off, breath shaking. Roy nodded.

"Death Eaters attacked his hometown. He hasn't had a chance to talk to Alphonse in ages. He can't _not_ go, Professor."

McGonagall crossed her arms, uncrossed them, adjusted her glasses, and crossed her arms again. She leaned forward, then back, and sighed heavily. Roy stood absolutely still, waiting for her answer.

"Is he in St. Mungo's or a hospital in Amestris?" she finally asked, settling into her chair, resting her chin on her hands. Not sure, Roy merely shrugged. The woman cast him a withering glare, flipping the pages of her paper until she found the article. Her eyes traveled down the page, reaching the bottom in seconds.

"It says he was 'severely injured,' so I'd assume he's in St. Mungo's. If he isn't there, Edward can't go," McGonagall murmured, folding her paper again. "As his guardian, you'll need to accompany him. The two of you have two days – including today – to spend with him. Under the current circumstances, that's all that I can allow."

Roy nodded, turning to leave; almost as an afterthought, he turned around and met the older woman's gaze again. She nodded.

"I'll get someone to cover your classes while you're gone. Just go."

**This is a break line; it has nothing to do with the story.**

Upon opening the door to his room, Roy was promptly yanked in and embraced briefly before a bag was forced into his left hand. He felt himself being dragged by his right wrist, but he was too distracted to care. Ed was the same way – it was like he couldn't get out fast enough.

A few students stared at Roy as he and Ed raced out the door, but he didn't really care. His attention was focused solely on his younger counterpart. In what could've been seconds, they reached the grounds.

Ed's breathing was rapidly speeding up, and Roy stopped him as soon as they got down to the lake. The boy tugged at his hand, but Roy forced him to sit down, looking around. The station was directly across the lake, and only Hagrid had access to the boats. The giant hadn't come up for breakfast, so he'd assumed that he was out here…but…

"Well! Professor Mustang an' Ed Elric! Why're you two ou' here? Ain't it time for breakfast?"

A hulking figure seemed to appear out of nowhere; Roy wondered whether it was being around Al's armor for so long that had made him oblivious to people over seven feet tall or if Armstrong had had a part in it. Either way, he and Ed both looked up at the same time, and Roy opened his mouth as he remembered why they were there.

"What's that?"

Ed was approaching Hagrid, reaching up towards a bundle in the man's arms. The giant lifted whatever it was above his head, and a loud cry came from it. The three froze.

"Uh….y'see, tha's…uh…" Hagrid stammered, lowering the 'thing' into viewing range. "I think she's hungry."

Wrapped in blankets and obviously upset about something, a small, pruny, ugly bird with pink down covering its pale body poked its head out. It let out a pitiful wail, flapping its naked wings and struggling against Hagrid's gentle hold. Ed reached out and slowly stroked the bird's soft head, a touch of awe on his face.

"What is this…?" he asked, not once breaking eye contact with the distressed chick. It flapped once more, and then rested again, leaning into Ed's palm. Hagrid raised an eyebrow.

"She's a li'l over a week old an' real rare – not sump'in ye can jus' buy. She's a phoenix chick."

Roy watched Ed stroke the bird's tiny head the whole time that Hagrid spoke. She had seemed aggravated before, but looked almost content now. At the end of Hagrid's explanation, she suddenly perked up, looked at Ed, and let out a much different cry than the one she'd made before. It lasted several seconds, a beautiful note that ended a pitch higher than it began. Ed breathed in amazement.

"Incredible," he whispered, running a finger down her side. She gave a soft chirp in response. "What's her name?"

"She don' got one yet, Mister Elric. Would'ja like ta hold 'er?" Hagrid responded, a smile starting to show on his face. Ed nodded, holding out his hands. His face was back to normal, if a little excited.

Once she was in his arms, though, Ed's countenance changed entirely. When Roy approached, he didn't even notice. A strange light was in the boy's eyes, and Roy recognized it immediately. It was a face he hadn't seen in ages, and it was almost a relief to see it again.

Ed was studying the bird.

And, Roy supposed, he had a right to. Up close, she was uglier than he'd originally thought; bigger, too. Not only was she slightly wrinkled, she was bald in some patches. Her beak was dirty, she had something like ash between her talons, and her head seemed too big for her body. Altogether, she might've been a foot long, from head to non-existent tail, and a whole third of it was neck and head.

But her eyes, he noted, were clear and bright. They were a soft, aquatic green, a clear contrast to her pinkish-white body; they didn't really fit in with the rest of her.

She looked more like a chicken than a bird of legend to Roy.

Ed, however, was transfixed. She rested her head against his left elbow and he promptly sat down, creating a more comfortable surface – his lap. The chick chirped appreciatively, stretching out. Ed chuckled at her.

"Sure likes you, eh?" Hagrid cut in, kneeling down. Roy almost felt insulted by the fact that, even on his knees, the wild-looking man was taller than him. "Tha's not normal. Phoenixes…they don' take ta people that easy. She mus' really like you."

Ed didn't look up, but Roy could've sworn he saw a smile on his face, if only briefly. The bird seemed to have noticed, too, and propped herself up in his lap. She stared at his bare left wrist, and Ed held it out.

"What you want on?"

Before anything else could register with Roy, the phoenix clamped down hard on the boy's wrist. Ed didn't cry out, but he did blink, an annoyed look crossing his face.

"Hey, that _hurts_," he muttered, gently trying to pull her off. She held tight, a few pearly tears leaking down her beak. Roy saw Ed twinge right before she pulled away, seemingly apologetic. The blonde pulled his sleeve back and both he and Roy stared at the small indent that looked like it had always been there, dumbfounded. Ed opened his mouth to say something, but Hagrid let out a shriek first.

"I don' believe it!" he exclaimed, an excited glint in his eyes. "D'you know what tha' mark means? Do you?"

When the young man shook his head, Roy had to hold back a laugh at the giant's expression. He was grinning madly, petting the now-annoyed bird in ecstasy.

"She marked you, she did! She just made you her master! Tha' means she's yers now, Mister Elric! She's _yer_ phoenix!"

Ed froze, staring at the bird. She stared right back, almost wistful looking. Before long, Ed just sighed, patting the bird a few times.

"Okay, she's my bird," he smiled softly, not looking up. "I keep her with me?"

Hagrid nodded.

"Yeah, she's _yers – _tha' means you got t'care for 'er, too. By the way, what's with th' bags?"

At once, Ed stood again, clutching the phoenix and going completely white. Roy's breath hitched as he remembered where they had been going. Apparently, the bird had fascinated Ed so much that he'd forgotten.

"Shit! Alphonse!" Ed muttered, eyes widening. Roy cleared his throat.

"Professor…Hagrid, can you escort us to the station? Edward's younger brother was injured in a strike in Amestris. The headmistress already approved us, but we need some help getting there…"

Hagrid took a shaky breath, eyes wide, and nodded in response. He pushed himself to his feet, running a hand down his face and through his scraggily beard, and walked into what Roy had learned just two days ago was his hut. A minute later, he stepped out again and shooed an owl off. He turned to face the two again.

"Come with me," he said in a gentle voice. "I'll take you t' St. Mungo's. Yeh prolly don' know where tha' is, eh?"

Roy glanced over at Edward, watching him shake his head breathlessly. The boy looked even more on edge than before, if that was even possible. It was like the thought of actually going to see Al was scaring him more than the idea of him being hurt.

He wanted to comfort him.

"C'mon, boats're this way. Sooner the better, right?" Hagrid said, stopping Roy's train of thought. The giant smiled reassuringly at Ed. "Don' you worry 'bout nothin' but seein' him, y'understand? Don' think o' nothin' else."

Even though Hagrid was trying to help them out, Roy felt the sudden urge to correct the man's grammar. He refrained, following him to a large boat instead. As he got in after Edward, he let himself stare at the younger man.

He looked as old as Roy felt.

**This is a break line; it has nothing to do with the story.**

The trip to St. Mungo's had been pretty speedy; all in all, it seemed to have taken no longer than an hour. The time had passed quickly, too, with Hagrid telling them about his own half-brother, Grawp. It had been meant, Ed was sure, to distract him, but had instead made him even more anxious.

…he had no clue what to do.

As far as he knew, Al had no clue that he was back. His letter would probably have arrived just _after_ the attack – in that case, he couldn't have known. And while he didn't like the thought of Al being hurt, there was one thing that bothered him more.

That was the thought of Al being _alone_.

It seemed to take the shriveled old witch at the counter _ages_ to sort through the patient logs. Ed waited with bated breath, barely aware of his surroundings. The room was white, Roy was looking at his watch, and the old hag was slowly turning another page. His phoenix was asleep, and as for him…

If he had to wait another _minute_, Ed would—

_"Edward?"_

Ed – and Roy, too, he noticed – wheeled around as a shriek came from the hall to their left. There, hair tousled and screwdriver in hand, stood a very welcome sight.

Winry.

The blonde boy tried to say something, but found himself tongue-tied. As eh struggled to regain his knowledge of the English language, the mechanic rushed toward him and threw her arms around his neck. Ed struggled to keep his phoenix from being completely crushed.

"Oh, my God, oh, my God…thank goodness you're okay…I was so worried about you – you just vanished! No one knew where you went, and Al was – you're here, but you…" Ed decided to interrupt her incessant babbling with some of his own.

"Winry – Al's – where is – I mean, is he…?"

Winry pulled back, looking straight into his eyes. He stared right back, swallowing the urge to scream at her for not answering. After a few tense moments, she smiled widely and laughed, tears evident at the edges of her eyes.

"You haven't changed…Al's doing fine. Do you want to see him now?" she wiped her eyes and held out a hand. Ed looked at it for a moment before nodding and grasping it. The two began down the hall, Winry dragging Ed. Not three seconds later, Ed stopped and looked back at Roy.

He didn't want to see Al without Roy being there. Were it any other situation, he probably would've pushed the idea to the back of his mind. Now, though, he beckoned for the older man to follow. When he did, Ed allowed a small smile of relief. Roy had been a part of Al's life, too, and he deserved to see him.

Once Roy had caught up, Ed allowed Winry to lead them once again. It wasn't like they had very far to go; Alphonse was apparently in a room just four doors down from where they'd stopped. Ed reached for the knob, and then paused.

"Winry, maybe I shouldn't…" Ed began, but immediately stopped himself. The phoenix was slowly waking up in his arms, making tiny chirping sounds and staring up at her new master. The blonde stared back at her for a moment, and sighed, turning the doorknob.

"Alphonse?" he asked, opening the door. A figure on one of the beds stirred, turning to look at him.

"Go in," Winry whispered, giving him a gentle push. "He can't talk right now, Ed, but he'll be really happy to see you. I just know it."

Ed swallowed hard, entering the room. The only bed that was occupied held who was presumably Alphonse, so Ed turned the light on. His eyes fell upon the occupant of the bed, and he began to smile, bursting into joyous laughter and rushing to the boy's side immediately.

A _real_ body. Al had a _real_ body again.

He knew that Winry and Roy were staring at him, but he couldn't help it. The armor that had so long hosted his brother was gone. It was exactly what he had hoped for, exactly what he wanted to see. Even if the body was battered from the recent attack – Ed counted six visible bandages and a device of some sort in Al's throat – it was a human body, obviously functioning perfectly. His brother.

Al looked back at him with a confused, but happy look on his face. He reached for a pad of paper and pen next to his bed, writing something down and showing it to Edward.

_Is it really you?_

Ed nodded, watching his brother's face; now that the initial relief was wearing off, he was a little worried. What would Al do? For now, he was writing something.

_I missed you. Everyone did. Where have you been? _ Ed read, frowning. He looked into Al's eyes, feeling altogether too serious.

"I was in another world's version of Munich. I just got back a little while ago, too. I tried to write to you, but the attack…" Ed's voice cracked, and he knew he was going to have to fight crying. "Anyway, you'll never guess what I've been doing lately."

Al looked a little happier. _What were you doing?_ He wrote, cocking his head.

"I'm attending a school of _magic_, Al. Like the stuff the people here use. Isn't that incredible?" he asked, unintentionally gently. Al shot him a look and his eyes fell upon the phoenix.

_What's that bird?_

"A phoenix," Ed answered, shifting her. "She's mine, now; wanna hold her?"

When Alphonse nodded, Edward gently placed the chick in his arms. Al ran a finger down her wing, smiling. _What's her name?_

"She doesn't have one," Ed smiled back. "Why don't you name her?"

Al blinked, eyes going wide. _Really?_ Ed nodded in response, and the younger boy looked her over carefully. _How about Lihst? _Ed blinked.

"Lihst?" Ed asked, looking over his bird. "Yeah, Lihst works pretty well. Especially spelled with the extra 'h.' I like it." Before anything else could be said, a doctor came in and gave Ed a pointed look.

"I apologize, but we'll have to send you home for now, Sir. We received a threat on this hospital, and we need you to leave. You can come back tomorrow," he said, flipping a few pages. "Besides, Alphonse is scheduled for a HGR scan today; that can take hours. You'll have to come back tomorrow."

Ed didn't fight it; instead, he merely ruffled his brother's hair, took Lihst back from him, and exited with Roy and Winry.

**This is a break line; it has nothing to do with the story. This is the A/N section!**

Okay, author's note time! So, who _else_ thinks that this is quite possibly the _worst_ chapter I've done _yet_ for this story? Good, I'm not the only one…

So, I guess you deserve an explanation for it. Basically, I was so busy over the past few weeks – if not months – that I've had very little time for anything. In fact, I'm supposed to be translating something right now, but…well…… . ;… . ;; okay, so I'm being lazy. I think I deserve it! Jeez, just look at my LJ for my _normal_ schedule; it's busy enough without my "super-busy-MUN-MYS-TVL-HoGF-etc. schedule"! So I have excuses!

…Not that I'm happy about it. I love updating, if only to get the new reviews! So, how about some? Anyone gonna review?

Oh, and how do you like Lihst so far? I think she's a good addition. She fits in the whole 52+ chapter outline I have…and I have another question for everyone.

How would you like a non-ruinable MPREG? I want answers! Come on – Harry Potter has over half the total amount of MPREGs on There are obviously ways to make it work…I think I can do it, too. Please respond, people!

Gotta go; working on other stuff now! Have fun with whatever else you do!


	5. Natural Therapy

Chapter Five: "Natural Therapy"

The hour after Ed's short – albeit _much_ needed – visit with his brother found the Rockbell family, Roy, and the young alchemist himself in the hospital cafeteria. It had been silent upon their initial arrival, but due to the eldest Elric's presence, Roy had very few doubts that it would remain that way.

In truth, being around the two women was something of a relief to him. While it was true that they were the relatives of those he had killed in Ishbal, which by no means was something he enjoyed thinking about, they served to alleviate some of the tension that had developed between Edward and himself during their short time together in Hogwarts. It brought Edward to a reasonably calm state, and that was no easy task. But still, this was Edward. That said, silence did _not_ come easily in his presence.

But it was still quiet.

Roy stole a glance at Edward, using the pretense of coughing to do so. The young man appeared preoccupied; so much so that Roy was a bit concerned himself. Fullmetal kept drawing invisible circles on his napkin, eyes traveling about the room. His foot tapped rhythmically and steadily, not letting up. Roy resisted the urge to stomp the offending extremity.

He wanted a _very_ strong drink. And he wanted it _now_.

The general turned his glance towards Winry and accidentally caught her eye. She glared at him for a moment, and then pushed the remnants of her chicken to the side of her plate. Roy had gotten the same dish, but he'd found himself unable to eat it. Anything that tasted that much like cardboard, he reasoned, couldn't be good for you.

Ed didn't seem to mind, though. He was still doing all the little twitchy things that gave some reference to his unease, but at least he was _eating_ now. The young man didn't seem to be completely there anymore.

But who could blame him? For the first time in months, he'd gotten an opportunity to see his younger brother again – his _precious_ Alphonse – and that had to be emotionally tolling, regardless of whether it was positive or not. It wasn't like it was the first time that Roy had seen him so quiet, but it perturbed him nonetheless.

And, to his shock, Roy found himself breaking the silence.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Miss Rockbell; I apologize for not saying so sooner," he said, almost mechanically. It sickened him to hear himself being so unreasonably polite, but he could deal with it for now. "How have you been since last time I saw you?"

Winry stiffened a bit and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear; she pulled too hard, though, and it wound up snapping. She growled at it, and Roy couldn't help but mentally berate her obvious poor mood.

Thought, to be honest, it was probably _his_ fault.

"I've been fine, Brigadier general Mustang; just peachy, as a matter of fact. And you?"

Ed finally picked his head up and looked at her. Roy was relieved, but didn't allow that to stop him from replying to the young woman.

"Well, I suppose I've been all right. I have a teaching job at Edward's school; I'm taking a bit of a leave from the military. I've stockpiled vacation days from the course of twelve years, so I can definitely afford to do so. I _had _intended to go out to see how Alphonse was doing in November, but…" he left the sentence hanging. Pinako was the one who finished it.

"But instead, you're here visiting him on a sickbed. I'm sure he would appreciate the thought, but you're probably causing more harm than good," she muttered, stabbing the last bit of her corn. She met her granddaughter's eyes. "You know how things are."

Ed shifted in his chair and pushed his plate away. He leaned across the table and looked the old woman straight in the eye.

"He's a part of Al's life, Grams; I think he has a right to know how he's doing. As much a right as I do, even," he stated clearly, letting an awkward smile grace his countenance for a moment. "I mean, it's not a bad thing, right?"

Roy considered for a moment how to word what he was about to say, clearing his throat to bring Ed's attention to himself. As he opened his mouth to speak, he braced what little resolve he had left at the moment for Ed's response – whatever it may be – and went for it.

"Alphonse doesn't know me anymore, Fullmetal. He has no memories beyond the age of ten. You know…before _that_ incident," he explained, putting on his most serious face. "He wouldn't recognize me."

Ed sighed, and Roy raised an eyebrow. That was most certainly _not_ the reaction he had expected.

"I kinda suspected that might be the case," the young man murmured, looking at Roy with this 'I've-heard-it-all-before' look on his face. "My father said that the sacrifice required to get Al's body back might have been the past four years of his life – the memories and experiences; people he met, things he did – and seeing him with the same body as back then only strengthened that theory. It'd be pretty awful if he still remembered everything we did."

Ed chuckled and took a drink out of his Styrofoam cup. He grimaced and looked at it again.

"Oh, watered down tomato juice; lovely. About as appetizing as milk."

Winry took a deep, audible breath. Her eyes traveled over Ed's face for a moment, and then she spoke again.

"What don't you want Al to remember?"

Ed froze for a split-second, but Roy caught it. In his own mind, he could see all the things that they had seen or done that had disturbed even him - Nina Tucker's death, the slaughter of Gran, everything at lab five - and he understood Ed's reasoning. Even so, there must have been more to it than the young man was letting on. After a moment or two, Ed sighed and smiled sadly.

"It's not a 'what' question, Winry; it's more of a 'why'," he said, voice straining as he stretched his back. "I mean, if you woke up after four years of being stuck in a suit of armor and found yourself as a ten-year-old, how would you take it? And then, just think about knowing that your brother was gone without a trace," he trailed off for a moment. "Wouldn't you blame yourself? It's better this way."

Winry was quietly staring at a plate that had likely never gotten so much attention and, in all probability, never would again. Her face was contemplative and her hands clenched her napkin tightly enough to crease it permanently. Roy rested his chin on interlaced fingers and observed things carefully; he would much rather do this than speak any more. The young woman's face changed so suddenly that Roy was stunned; at once, she seemed on the verge of tears.

"But it's not _fair_!" She finally burst out, gaining the unnecessary attention of several others in the vicinity. Roy groaned to himself as what little peripheral vision he had was filled with curious faces. Winry seemed undaunted, all the same. "I mean, he can't remember _anything_ now! Where does that leave _you_!"

Ed glowered at those staring before answering.

"_Life_ isn't fair, Winry," he stated, deliberately loud. "And he still knows me," he continued, quieting down considerably as the people who had previously been staring returned to their own meals and conversations. "To me, that's more than enough. I can still be his older brother. _That's_ where I'm left."

Roy mentally applauded Edward and allowed himself to smirk. He knew the young man hated the expression, and he knew that he was risking a long string of _colorful_ insults. Sometimes, Ed's intelligence confused him. He had a vocabulary adults would envy, yet he chose to only utilize it in his outbursts.

Ah, and speaking of _outbursts_…

"What're you smirking at, Professor Cynicism?" He asked, narrowing his eyes. Roy certainly had to hand it to Edward; not many people could concoct an insult _that_ accurate in a split second. His smirk spread into a small grin.

"Ah, nothing. Just considering what Lai would do if he was in Al's position," he expounded. "Knowing him, he'd probably just try to continue with his life. Then again, Lai's never really been anything like Alphonse, so it might be a moot point to think about it anymore. I'll stop now."

Ed's eyes widened for a moment.

"Who's Lai?"

Roy could've smacked himself in the head for his thoughtlessness. Of course Ed wouldn't know Lai. It'd be like asking if Roy knew Hoenheim Elric. But then…Roy had _heard_ of Hoenheim and had known that he was Ed's father. As for Lai – he decided to stop thinking about it. He knew his thoughts would go in circles if he kept it up.

"My younger brother; you two would get along, I think," he smiled, wary of the fact that Winry was gaping at him. Sure, he didn't smile all that much, but it wasn't _that_ shocking when he did. "He's only nineteen years old; Dean Lai Mustang. He's…an _exceptionally_ interesting person. Very eccentric, very bright…"

Ed chortled.

"Nothing like you, huh?" He interjected, and Roy supposed he'd had it coming. He'd been making fun of Ed for years. He could let this slide. "What kind of name is 'Lai,' anyway?"

"It's Xingian," he answered blandly. "You _do_ know that I'm from there, right?"

Edward's eyes had a certain gleam in them and Roy was anticipating a stream of sarcasm. Lo and behold, he was right.

"You're from Xing? _Really_?" he asked, voice dripping with scorn. "I never would have guessed. I mean, black hair and eyes aren't just native to Xing; even the eye _shape_ is totally androgynous. And you're bilingual to boot; your file says you speak Mandarin and Cantonese in addition to English. Wow, I could _never_ have even suspected that you were of Xingian decent! I'm _stunned_."

Roy chuckled at him; this was the Ed he recognized.

"Oh? I thought you were more observant than that, Fullmetal. Are all _non_-Xingians this way?" He watched Ed growl.

"You're a complete bastard," the young man hissed. Roy sighed.

"Whatever you want to think," he stated, standing up. "We need to be getting to the hotel; do you know what that bird eats?"

Ed turned his attention to his phoenix and smiled slightly. Roy raised his eyebrow and shot a glance to Pinako. She seemed nearly as lost as he felt. Ed seemed to do a complete 180 when it came to the bloody bird.

Come to think of it, Edward had acted the same way when he'd first seen the damn thing, too. He'd even forgotten that he was on his way to see Alphonse. The only thing that the older alchemist knew about the bird was that he didn't like it. He had known it for all of four hours and had already placed it on the same level as Kimbly, minus all the 'I'll-kill-my-fellow-officers-and-make-them-go-BOOM!'-ness.

Maybe Kimbly wasn't the best example…

"Hagrid said something about phoenix only needing to drink, so I think we're good," Ed finally responded, standing up and picking her from the nest she'd made of Ed's overcoat. She chirped indignantly at the loss, flapping her wings angrily. Ed stroked her beak softly, and she calmed immediately. "Where are we staying?"

Winry interrupted before Roy could respond.

"It's barely noon! Why do you need to check in?" She asked, propping a hand on her hip. "Spend some time with Grams and me. We've missed you."

Roy sensed a very corny, eye-roll worthy scene about to unfold, and thus cleared his throat again.

"I need to check in, but Ed doesn't. You can keep him until nine p.m.; that's Hogwarts' normal curfew. Fullmetal, spend some time with them," he murmured, meeting the young man's eyes for a moment. "You won't get another chance for a long time, I think."

Ed made some sound that might have been a protest, but Roy beat him to saying anything.

"They're your _family_. Spend time with them. That is an _order, _Fullmetal," he commanded. The boy glared at him, but turned and walked to the two women nonetheless. Regardless of what he was going to say, Roy knew that Ed wanted to talk with them _without_ him around. This way, there wouldn't be any awkwardness between them when he got back.

Well…maybe just a _little_.

To his great surprise, Roy found that he had someone waiting for him at the hotel. There, in all her nunny-goodness, stood a very stern-looking McGonagall. She arched an eyebrow at him and her mouth thinned out a bit.

"I thought you were escorting Mr. Elric," she murmured, annoying Roy greatly. "May I ask where he is?"

Roy sighed theatrically.

"He's with his family; the people who are taking care of his brother. Their names are Winry and Pinako Rockbell. I can guarantee that he'll be fine," he said, smiling in a wide, fake fashion. "And, as Edward's guardian, I am authorized to make that decision."

McGonagall shot him a look that made the grin drop right from his face. She cleared her throat.

"You're a lot more than just his guardian, from what I understand," she hissed, gesturing for him to follow her. He did so, walking to the edge of the lobby. Once there, she took a deep breath, face open. "I know about your positions in the Amestrian military. I'm completely aware that you're the Flame Alchemist and that Edward is the Fullmetal Alchemist."

Roy's face slackened for a moment, and anyone could see the wheels turning in his head. McGonagall lowered her gaze to the ground.

"I do a background check on all my staff; when I saw your title, I checked to see if you really had any dependents. Instead, I found an underage subordinate with a well-documented history of service. I don't know where to begin," she continued, eyes still lowered. "I could fire you for withholding information and expel Mr. Elric for his involvement in military work of any kind, but I don't think I'll do that. Instead, I'm going to ask you one thing."

Roy couldn't take it anymore. He sighed.

"Professor McGonagall, if you're going to talk to me…please look me in the eye," he ordered quietly. She looked up, but couldn't seem to keep her gaze steady. "I want to see your eyes when you ask whatever you're asking. If you won't let me do that, then I won't do what you want me to."

She nodded, her two eyes locking onto his one.

"I want you to come clean to the school," she said quickly, obviously nervous about something. "Not right away, but soon enough. The seventh years learn about you in classes that they _pay attention_ in this year, and fourth years will be studying you in History of Magic…any _serious_ students will know you. It's going to be easiest for you to keep face if you tell them yourself."

Roy nodded in understanding. Her logic was impeccable – if a little hasty – and her delivery had certainly been tactful enough. Unfortunately, though, she hadn't come close to timing it correctly.

"I'm afraid that I can't answer that request without Fullmetal here as well," he replied curtly, watching her face carefully. "It's as much his decision as mine; even if I'm his superior officer. I respect him enough to let him choose what to do," he finished, turning and looking toward the counter. "He'll be back by nine; stop by tomorrow, if you can. It'll give him time to think."

McGonagall sighed and inclined her head in agreement. The older woman turned around and approached the fireplace; Roy started towards the counter right away. He knew she wouldn't be there when he was done.

He didn't like her all that much.

Once he'd gotten the keys, dropped his bags off, and had a look around the room, Roy set off on a walk about the area. Having never been in a strictly magical community besides Hogwarts, it would have to be an interesting experience. Maybe the local pub would make a good stop. Bars, he had learned, could provide a quintessentially accurate synopsis of what a town was like. If they were rowdy and fun, the town was usually doing well. On the other hand, a quiet, somber mood usually meant that trouble was brewing. The décor could show if a town was wealthy, even. In any case, he _definitely_ had to make a stop.

But it could wait, he reasoned, until he'd had his fill of the sights.

Many "sights" and a bar later, Roy was beyond exhausted. He'd seen everything from candies made expressly for vampires to twins who finished each other's sentences and had pointed out his age several _dozen_ times to broomsticks that could supposedly reach 80 miles per hour in ten seconds. He forced himself up to the room he and Edward shared, all too aware that he'd only been out for four hours and had already worn himself out.

He _hated_ being old.

The general collapsed into the plush chair near the window, holding his head. Whatever he had expected before had been castrated and shot to hell as soon as he'd gotten out there. It was like some poorly run flea market rather than a self-preserving economy.

It was barely five. He'd already eaten, shopped, and written to Hawkeye; there wasn't much left to do. All he really _could _do was wait for Edward to get back.

That could take hours.

So, in order to alleviate at least a _tiny_ bit of his boredom, he began a letter to his brother. He hadn't done that – at least, not without some holiday as an excuse – in _ages_. I must've been…what, two years? He barely knew where to start.

_"Dear Lai,_

_How've you been? I've been okay. A lot's happened since the last time we talked, but I don't think all of it was _that_ important…"_

Roy gritted his teeth and erased everything he'd just written. It sounded so damn corny…he could barely stand it. He started again.

_"Lai-_

_I'm out of the country right now, so I figured I might as well write you. I'm currently in a place called 'Scotland' and I've got a teaching position for a year. The school is called 'Hogwarts' and they've got me teaching about life in Amestris. It's really odd, especially since I have to teach it from a civilian point of view. And yes, I _am_ still a part of the military._

_As it is, I'm only here because one of my subordinates is, too. They're small, blonde, and a serious pain in my ass; you two would get along. You even share a pastime – you both love getting on my nerves. In fact, I don't know which of you is worse._

_There is something odd going on, though…"_

The army man seriously debated whether to write it or not, but he eventually decided to do so. Lai wouldn't laugh at him – at least, not openly – and could be depended on for advice in almost any situation. Sometimes, it was hard to believe Roy was the older one.

_"See, there's this thing out here that can determine what you want most. Supposedly, it's your 'innermost desire' or whatever, but I don't know what to make of it. Of all things, it showed this subordinate. I don't get it. I mean, they've had a really hard life; I can totally sympathize with them for that. And yes, I'll admit that I wanted them to have it better, but that's normal._

_So, Lai…what exactly did it mean? I am _reasonably_ certain that it's referring to the desire to help them get better footing, but I'd like your thoughts on it all the same._

_Well, this letter is getting _extremely_ personal, mawkish, and I don't even feel like I wrote it anymore. Respond quickly or I might forget that I ever wrote it._

_See you when I get back. Maybe._

_Roy._

_(P.S.: send your reply back with the bird; it'll know what to do.)_

Roy read over the final line in his note and cursed. 'The bird' was currently at Hogwarts – his assigned owl. He sighed loudly, knowing full well what this would entail. Unless, of course…

He walked straight to the fireplace and pinched a little powder out of a bag on the mantle. Tom had said something about using it if he needed room service or anything of the like; this probably counted. The dark-haired man sighed and tossed the dust into the hearth. The fire crackled and turned green.

"Do you have an owl I can use?" he called in. Not five seconds after he did so, one brown owl narrowly missed his head on its way to perch on his dresser.

That took care of that. Except…all of a sudden…

Was that a chirp?

Meanwhile, Edward was having something of a difficult time with a pair of overly-curious women. He had been asked, demanded, and eventually threatened by the two for his story. No matter what he tried to do or say, they weren't letting it drop without a fight. Winry had made that _perfectly_ clear.

"Look, Winry," he muttered, stealing a glance at the clock; it was sometime close to seven. "It's not important. I just want to eat some dinner and go to _bed._ Can't we talk about it tomorrow?"

Winry huffed at him.

"You," she said, taking hold of his right wrist. "…wouldn't get out of telling us if _Barry the Chopper_ burst in wearing thong underwear and threatening to force-feed everyone in here my entire tool collection! You're telling us _now_,"

Ed blanched visibly. Winry had _no_ idea how disturbing that image was. That bloody suit of armor…he could just see it prancing around in a bikini and waving wrenches and hammers. He shuddered; not only had he worn a dress – a freaking _dress_ – when he had _first_ tried to kill him…

He really didn't need that image right now.

The girl sat him down on her bed, sitting next to him. It wasn't unlike she'd done when they were kids; it was oddly comforting.

"We just wanna know because we're worried. You know that," she whispered.

Ed sighed, pulling his arm out of her grasp. Soon, he'd have to ask her to make another arm for him. He really didn't want to think about what she'd say then.

Winry was a great girl, but she could be more annoying than Hell sometimes.

"I already told you. I was in Munich," he stated blandly, lying back on the sheets and stretching luxuriously. "It was this weird town in Germany. It just wasn't…_our_ Germany. It was another one."

Great description. It was about as accurate as saying "I went somewhere up north."

Winry shifted, but he didn't look at her. Instead, he just put his arms under his head. Ever since he'd first gotten the bloody auto-mail, he'd had to be careful how he did that. The first couple times he'd tried, he'd ended up resting the back of his head on something _very_ uncomfortable to rest on. _Very_ uncomfortable, and he'd made absolutely certain that everyone knew. At least, everyone within earshot had some idea of how hard the metal was.

"We don't need to know that yet, Pipsqueak," Pinako's voice said, coming from somewhere to his right. "We want to know what happened down wherever you were before. All we know is what Rose told us, and we don't really know if it's all that believable. She seemed a little bit off on those things."

Ed arched a brow.

"What exactly does she say happened?" he asked, sitting up and looking the old woman in the eyes. She puffed her pipe lightly.

"She said that you disappeared, came back, got killed, and then came back to life. She also mentioned something about Al being the Philosopher's stone and some woman named Dante trying to use him," she murmured, voice gravelly. "None of that's true, right?"

The alchemist chuckled, folding his hands in his lap.

"No, that's mostly true. I got sent through the Gate, ended up making my way back, had a nice fight with a homunculus named _Envy_, got killed," he watched the women's reaction to this; both looked completely lost, if a little skeptical. "Al brought me back when that happened…since _yes_, he was the Philosopher's stone…and when I woke up, I was on the ground with both arms and legs completely flesh. I sent Rose up so that she wouldn't see what I was doing…and I did my best to bring Al back. I guess it worked."

He stretched again, staring at the back of his hand.

"But then, I _did_ end up losing my arm and leg again…but I won't go into that."

Yes…he knew why he'd lost them. It was the same reason he'd lost them in the first place. For Alphonse. They weren't a sacrifice for him; not in the least. All he knew was that Al had lost some _very_ important organs. If he was going to survive in his own body, he would _definitely_ need replacements.

It was a damn shame that he could only get enough of the _proper_ elements from _two _limbs.

Winry was the first to pick her jaw up from the floor.

"You…died? Oh, Ed," she whispered, moving to put her arms around him. He brushed them away. "I…"

Pinako interrupted her almost immediately.

"Well, we'll obviously need to fix you up with some good auto-mail soon; what you've got now is worth shit," the old woman said, yanking his sleeve up and looking over the metal. "It's rusted, creaky, and doesn't move well. How long can you stay?"

Ed glanced at the clock. 7:34.

"Until tomorrow night. I leave in about 23 hours," he replied. This was a very inconvenient occurrence. "Could you just fix these up? I can't afford to miss too much school, you know."

Pinako shot him a dry glare.

"Exactly why do you have to attend this school? It's not as if you need the education. I hate saying it, but you could build up a pretty steady career in the military if you wanted to. Al's been talking – well, back when he _was_ talking – about joining. He doesn't seem to understand why he shouldn't," she growled out, taking a big drag on her pipe. "You two are more alike than you should be. And you're both trouble, too."

Ed narrowed his eyes, studying the sheets.

"Maybe he won't join; I mean, I'm here for him. If he wants to, I could convince him not to," he trailed off, expression hardening. "I think I would know how terrible the military can--"

He was cut off by the sudden parting of his right arm from his body; he resisted the urge to scream his brains out. Instead, he merely waited out the more intense jolts of pain, clutching at his joint. Once they'd finally subsided, he fixed his deadliest glare at the wrench-wielding woman who just so happened to be holding his prosthetic.

"_EXACTLY WHAT MADE YOU THINK YOU COULD DO THAT!_" he yelled, straightening up. No sooner had the words gotten out of his mouth did he feel the severe pain of his leg parting company with the rest of his body. He let himself scream this time, watching as the corners of his vision became dark. It was all he could do not to pass out, and he found himself panting with the force of the ache.

"Sorry," Winry whispered, pulling her toolbox out of the corner. "I thought it would be best to do it while you were distracted…"

Ed groaned, laying his arm over his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to simply go to sleep at the moment. That, or just take a massive dose of painkillers; he'd taken so many in his life that they didn't take effect easily.

"We might be able to work with this," Pinako admitted, and Ed heard a sound resembling a can being opened. He decided not to look. "It could be done in six hours."

The blonde removed his arm and stared at the ceiling.

"So, what am I supposed to do? Mess around with Lihst or something?" he asked, looking toward his bag.

"…Lihst?"

Roy grumbled at his luck. Ed had put his bloody phoenix in the wrong bag, and it had apparently decided that his clothes would be excellent material for a nest. She chirped up at him triumphantly, shredding a pair of his boxers as she did so. He felt a tic forming in his eye.

"What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?" he hissed, plucking her out of the duffle. She flapped her wings and let out a series of loud, high pitched squeaks, and it was all Roy could do to avoid strangling the fowl. He glared at it, twisting his mouth into a scowl. She didn't quiet down at all. "Damn it…do you have any idea how long that'll take to fix?"

Lihst let out a resolute chirp; Roy twitched.

"Are you _trying_ to annoy me?" he asked, holding her by the scruff of her neck. She struggled harder against his hold, trying to bite at his wrist. He gave a disgusted sigh and put her on one of the beds.

"Make a nest out of the pillows for all I care; just don't touch my stuff," he warned, crossing his arms. He _must've_ been going crazy. If he wasn't, then he already was; he could've _sworn_ that the bird understood him. She waddled over to the pillow and examined it. She poked at it with her beak, pressed her chest against it, and promptly turned away from it. Roy watched warily as she made her way across the bed again and sighed as she jumped straight for his bag.

"You son of a bitch," he caught her in mid-air and brought her up to eye-level. "I used to think that _Hayate_ was the bane of my existence, but I don't know anymore! You're doing a fine job of replacing him!"

And, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Roy found a beak clamped _very_ hard over his nose. He let out a string of words that even Edward would have blushed at and yanked the bird away from his face. At least, he tried to; it didn't seem to feel that he was entitled to have possession of his nose again. It seemed to be holding tighter now…

There it was – a drip on the nose, and he felt the pain starting to vanish. The beak left his skin and was replaced by something warm and liquid. He blinked and looked down at the phoenix.

She was…crying?

Now that he thought about it, she'd done something similar when she'd bitten Ed…a bite, and then a few tears. It didn't make much sense, but his nose really didn't bother him anymore. A quick glance in the mirror showed that it was completely uninjured. He stared at Lihst.

"That," he whispered, setting her on the sofa. "…is a great trick. Excellent, really; if it weren't so damn creepy and if you weren't the one who did it, I'd probably love it. Now, why don't you have fun with my bed?"

Lihst observed him with a sort of "I knew you'd say that" type look on her face and chirped. She turned around and – much to Roy's relief – began shredding the pillow on what Roy had since decided would be _Edward's_ bed for the night.

He really didn't know why he hated this bird so much; he got the impression, though, that the feeling was mutual. Just as well, he assumed; Ed certainly couldn't complain about him disliking his precious pet if said pet hated him back. He wasn't exactly sure why it mattered, though…

In fact, the more he thought about it…the more embarrassing it became. Not only had he spent the better part of ten minutes chewing out a _bird_, he'd also been _thinking_ about _why _he hated it. And as soon as that part became clear, the whole thing became _absolutely_ ludicrous.

He hated Lihst because she could calm Edward down. And to Roy, at least, a calm Edward was about as desirable as wet spark-gloves. Almost as useful, too. And then, there was one other reason that he didn't like Ed to be too calm – he wasn't nearly as amusing. A stupid reason, he knew, but he rather liked Ed's temper tantrums.

A loud squawk snapped him out of his thoughts, and he turned to find that Lihst had already _destroyed_ the pillows on Ed's bed. She looked somewhat proud of herself. Roy twitched again.

_Thank God she doesn't realize that's not mine…_

When Ed finally snuck up to his hotel room at a little past two in the morning – after a great deal of difficulty and a slight headache had run their course – he was greeted by a series of chirps ending in a held out note. The source was very obvious; it was sitting in the middle of a destroyed pillow on one of the beds. There, plump, comfortable, and obviously proud of herself, sat Lihst. Of course, his relief in seeing her again promptly dissolved when he noticed a note affixed to the headboard with what appeared to be the remnants of his toothbrush.

**_"I BELONG TO A SHRIMP IN MORE TROUBLE THAN A CHERRY ON A WEDDING DRESS,"_** was written across it in brown ink. It seemed like Roy was angry about something.

"Uh…you've been bad, haven't you?" he asked the phoenix, plucking her out of her newly made "nest." She immediately settled against him comfortably, and he sighed. "Whatever you did, I'll be taking the blame. I was already going to be--" he was cut off by a voice from the bathroom.

"You're in twice as much trouble now, Edward; curfew was five hours ago," Roy called through the door. Ed flinched, turning around. To his relief, he found that the shower had suddenly turned on. "When I'm done in here, we're going to have a _long_ talk about you taking care of that bird. She needs to be trained not to destroy all my possessions."

Ed narrowed his eyes.

"Who do you think you are? My _mother_ wouldn't have said that," he growled out, stroking Lihst's head. A scoff came from the bathroom.

"Whatever she would've said doesn't matter. _I_ get to lecture you nowadays, not her. Any complaints may be lodged with McGonagall, the Amestrian parliament, or your father," he called coolly. Ed could've snapped his neck. "Get ready for bed; I'll talk to you later."

Ed grumbled loudly and dug through his bag. As soon as he had a fresh tank-top on, he heard a clicking sound from the direction of the window. Looking up, he noticed a grey owl perched on the sill. It tapped again, and the blonde opened the window for it. It held out its leg, showing him a dirty bit of parchment. He unrolled it and read it.

_Elric-_

_Bring me a cauldron and two bits of boomslang skin. I can get any other material I need in this God forsaken greenhouse. That's all._

_Severus_

The young alchemist turned to the desk and rooted around until he found the complementary paper hotels had a habit of leaving in extremely inconvenient places. He scribbled a reply down – something vague, something positive – and gave it back to the owl. He really wasn't in the mood to write long, drawn out letters tonight. After giving it a command, he resumed petting Lihst. It wasn't until the door to the bathroom opened that he realized Roy was there.

"Ah, Colonel," he said hastily, glancing up. "I was just--"

And he gaped.

The man before him had on nothing but a faded pair of jeans, hair slicked back and wet. His eye patch was nowhere in sight, and Ed's eyes nearly burst out of his head when he saw what had become of Roy's face. A fair-sized hole took up the space where his left eye should have been, hardened scars surrounding it. The flesh was darkened, giving it a hauntingly burnt look. The teenager had never seen anything so shocking in his life.

His eyes traveled lower of their own volition, and Edward found himself staring at the older man's bare chest. It was peppered with small scars and large ones alike, and one made his breath catch in his throat. It was thin – _very_ thin – and long. It started on the far left side of his chest and ended somewhere close to his heart. It stood out in bas relief from the rest of his skin. It almost scared the blonde to think about what could've brought it to be there, and he took a deep, shaky breath to try to relax.

Roy cleared his throat, and that snapped Ed back to reality. He blushed heavily, but still sent the older man a look that said "what the fuck happened to you, and why haven't you told me about it yet?" and crossed his arms. Said man began to put his patch back on, turning his back to the younger.

"I believe we were going to discuss your punishment?" Roy said, voice steady. Ed swallowed hard.

"Not until you tell me what happened to you," he whispered, unsure of where the words were coming from. It just seemed wrong that _Roy Mustang_, of all people, could be that badly injured, no matter the circumstances. "Tell me how you lost your eye and got all those scars, and then I'll take whatever punishment you want to give me."

The older man sat down on his bed and eyed Ed warily.

"I don't see how those two are correlated, Fullmetal," he replied, voice dull. He rested his hands on his thighs and surveyed the boy; Ed felt oddly like he was being priced. "Besides, just telling you that would be more punishment than you deserve."

Edward sighed and took a step back, looking at Roy again. He waited for a moment, and then tackled his superior officer, pinning him to the bed and straddling his hips. The man blinked, obviously shocked.

"Just tell me what fucking happened to you, _Roy_," he hissed, pressing his arms down on Roy's shoulders and tightening his grip on one. "Winry and old lady Pinako just fixed this arm up for me; I'd rather not have to test how well they did right now. Talk, or I'll break every bone I can reach."

Roy raised an eyebrow.

"That would get you a dishonorable discharge and two months of detention, Edward. Are you sure that you want to risk that?" he asked wryly, not struggling at all. Ed shot him a dirty look, and then loosened his grip, slumping in the older man's lap.

"I just want to know, okay?" the blonde replied, only just beginning to realize how awkward a position he was in. Roy sat up, and he found himself flushing upon realizing that their faces were only inches apart. A parade of visions from the mirror – and some that his mind had oh-so-generously decided to create on its own – filled his head, and he fought the urge to punch himself. God damn mirror.

"Curiosity killed the cat," Roy murmured, shifting so that Ed could sit more comfortably in his lap. The young alchemist glared.

"And satisfaction brought him back. Besides, it doesn't matter to me; I'm a _dog_, remember?" he shot back, ignoring the fact that they he was wearing nothing more than boxers and a tank-top in the lap of someone who he'd been seeing doing naughty things to him in his mind for days. Or, trying to; it was kind of hard to do while he was straddling him and sitting in his lap. This time, he was willing the blood to _stay_ in his face.

Roy sighed loudly and obviously, giving Ed the chance to get a good sniff of his breath. Minty; he'd just brushed his teeth, apparently. How odd; he'd never given thought to it before. He stopped himself in his tracks and looked Roy right in the eye.

"Fine," he murmured resignedly. He shifted _just_ slightly. "I'll tell you, but you have to do something for me. Equivalent exchange, after all," the man finished, and Ed scoffed.

"Okay, then; for your story, I'll explain how there's no such thing as 'equivalent exchange.' Sound fair?" he asked, watching with vague interest as the corners of Roy's mouth twitched. "Now that we've got that settled, tell me how it happened."

The General lowered his eyes.

"I got them in a fight with the homunculus Bradley," Roy replied, a detached look appearing on his face. "In his house…the basement – no, the wine cellar; I almost got killed in a wine cellar. _Twice_, now that I think about it; I should avoid them. Anyway, I managed to get him alone, so we started fighting.

"He manipulated the air with me, so I couldn't attack him well. Even when I hit him, he regenerated again. He kept slashing at me with his sword…all over," he trailed off, tracing the scar that had originally caught Ed's eye. He pulled the younger man's right hand to his chest, ignoring the protests, and guided his finger to the left edge of the mark. The digit was pressed against it, and Ed's breath caught again.

"He stabbed me _here_," he pushed Ed's finger against the flesh harder to get his message across; the teenager felt slightly sick. Then again, he _had_ demanded to know, so he really had no right to stop him now. "And spoke of how insignificant humans were. Then, he started to drag it towards…"

Roy trailed off again, sliding Ed's metal finger across the scar slowly; Ed flinched. He reached the end, and then held him still.

"…and by that time, I couldn't do much of anything. But then, his son came in. He was carrying something in a white cloth; I couldn't see what it was," his voice faltered, and Ed could see the discomfort he felt. "He said something about a 'treasure' and apologized; Bradley touched him and froze, and then snapped the kid's neck. I couldn't do anything at all."

He let go of Ed's hand and instead gripped his wrist, knuckles white.

"I managed to hit him with an attack, and…well, he actually died. I took what the kid had brought in – a skull – and burned what was left of him with it. Then, I…I couldn't leave the kid there, so…I took him up with me…to the landing," Roy's breathing was erratic, and it almost scared Ed to hear him sounding so…_raw_. "I got up there, and Archer was waiting for me. He held up a gun and…"

He brought Ed's hand to his eye patch, and Ed almost lost it. The older man didn't say anything for a moment.

"I don't remember much…just Hawkeye screaming my name. The next thing I knew, I was in the hospital. They told me that Alphonse had been found – a real body – and that you'd vanished. After that, Hawkeye tried to nurse me back to health; I guess she did a decent job, too. She stopped staying with me when I was better; that was about a week before you reappeared. Now you're up to date."

A lifeless look was on Roy's face; Ed swallowed hard.

"I guess I…owe _you_ the truth, too," the young man whispered, pulling his hand away from Roy. "About what happened to me and Al. That, and about equivalent exchange."

Roy nodded, and Ed started his story.

"My father is over 400 years old; I guess that's a good place to start," he murmured; Roy didn't seem fazed, so he continued. "He was married to a woman named Dante, and they had a kid. It died of mercury poisoning, though…and I guess he felt that he _had_ to bring him back. He failed, though, and created a homunculus named Envy. He also found that he could prolong his life – and Dante's – by using the Philosopher's stone to switch bodies.

"He and Dante parted ways, and she tried to make a new stone by manipulating the homunculi. They, in turn, manipulated Amestris – and us – and found a way through Scar," he shivered slightly. Roy watched him. "I'm not good at explaining this…I only know what Al told me about this part, but apparently, Scar's arm was where the stone was being formed. But…Kimbly wounded scar…fatally wounded him…and then, the soldiers were sent in…"

He didn't want to think about what he'd seen, and he certainly didn't want to remember the faces all around him. The terror, the deaths; they were imbedded permanently in his memory. It had plagued him for weeks.

"Scar…made _Al_ into the Philosopher's stone," he whispered. Roy's eyes widened.

"You're kidding," he said, breathless. "Go on."

"After the array he'd made in Lior was activated, Al and I met up again. We escaped, went to Resemboole…you know all that. Anyway, some shit happened…and we ended up below Central with Rose, Dante, a few homunculus, and a baby. Dante was all set to use Al to take Rose's body as her own, but I couldn't let that happen. She sent me through the gate – I'll tell you more about it later – and I was in another world.

"I met my father again," he said, voice inadvertently soft. "He explained to me about equivalent exchange. Apparently…no, I'll tell you later. Anyway, I was in someone _else's_ body at that time – someone from that world. An aircraft came down on me, and I guess he died. That let me come back to Amestris. I got in a fight with Envy…and he's a shape-shifter. I don't know if I mentioned that. Anyway, at that point, I had no idea who he really was. He kept changing his face while I punched him – he became Mom, Marco, Hughes, you – and I told him to show me his real face. He did, and…"

Ed felt himself grit his teeth as he found himself finally saying it aloud.

"He's my older brother. He told me that, and then he…killed me," he felt himself shaking, and Roy put his hands on his shoulders. The young man looked up to see a look of shock and anxiety on the elder's face. "He stabbed me right through the heart. It was…oh, God; I'd never imagined it would be as it was.

"Dying was…it was the saddest thing that had ever happened to me. You know how people always say that their life flashes before their eyes? It doesn't. All you see is the people you care about. People who matter. People that you would miss. And then, I felt lonelier than I'd ever felt. It was cold…white…and I saw the gate. Then, I saw Al and Envy. Envy forced his way through, and I woke up. Al was gone."

Ed swallowed hard, looking at his arm.

"My arm and leg were real, and Rose told me about what Al had done. I started to look for him, but she stopped me. Then, I told her some _bullshit_ about destroying the place, and I sent her out. I made the array…and offered myself up to bring him back," he chuckled at the irony of it. "And I lived. I woke up in some other world's version of Munich. I lived with Dad and some guy who looked _just_ like Al. It wasn't a bad place, but I wanted everyone I knew. I wanted to be home."

He met Roy's eyes briefly.

"The other world had a Hughes; he wasn't married and he was more serious, but it was definitely the same Hughes. There was another Gracia, another Fury…everyone seemed to have a double there. It was so weird," he looked at his hands. "But I wanted out. I found this place called the 'Bermuda Triangle' out in the ocean. It was rumored that anything that went over it vanished. I boarded a plane – a machine that can fly – that was carrying convicts to a high-security prison out there. Sirius Black was with me, so when I went to jump out of the plane, he jumped with me. We hit the water and I woke up outside Hogwarts," he whispered. "Now _you're_ up to date."

Roy nodded, waiting. It took Ed a moment before he realized what he was waiting for.

"As for equivalent exchange," he started again, taking great care to not move. "It's complicated. It exists and functions, but there are more rules than we'd ever imagined. I can explain it, I think…but it'll be hard to understand. Are you up for some hard thinking?"

When the General gave the affirmative, Ed took a deep breath and set his gaze on the man's eye.

"We need to start with the basics that everyone knows – the _standard_ rules of equivalent exchange. You know the stuff; to obtain, something of equal value must be lost. The material being constructed must be of the same elementary breakdown as the material being _deconstructed_. Mass must remain the same, as must the original elements. Bearing that in mind, think to the process of transmutation and try to consider the one source that's unaccounted for."

The blonde observed the dark-haired man's reaction. He seemed to think for a moment, and then shook his head. Ed continued.

"To transmute, an array is usually needed. Ignore my case for the moment," he added at the inquisitive look Roy gave him. This was getting irritating. "Now, think about what an alchemist does to activate the array. He presses a part of his body – usually his hands – to the mark and puts the necessary amount of energy in to complete the transmutation.

"Where does that energy come from?" he asked, shifting almost absentmindedly. He wasn't used to denim. Come to think of it, he hadn't worn any in the past six years, almost. He tried to focus again. "Any ideas?"

The man before him pondered it for a moment, and then spoke up in an authoritative voice.

"It comes from the electrical field that surrounds the body. It's a well known fact that living human beings have a natural electrical charge; levels vary from person to person," he stated, and Ed suddenly became very conscious of a steadying hand on his lower back. "Experiments have shown that these levels shoot up dramatically during a transmutation and recede to almost nothing directly thereafter. The source isn't unaccounted for."

Ed raised an eyebrow, and the older man waited for him.

"So, have you thought at all as to how that energy is any different from normal electricity? How is the electrical field around the human body unlike the energy we use to heat our homes, to turn on lights, or to cook or clean?" he asked, looking the man in the eye.

"It isn't," Roy replied, staring right back. Ed let out a quiet chuckle.

"All right, then; why can't we use regular electricity to power transmutations?" he questioned; after all these years, it felt _creepy_ to be talking down to the older man. Edward watched, amused, as Roy's face went slack.

"The energy found in the human body isn't what fuels the reaction, Roy," he managed, feeling himself shiver. He really didn't know why. "It only allows us to _access_ the source of the real energy we need.

"The Gate leads to another world; I told you that, right? While I was there, I took the body of someone native to that place. My body was trapped somewhere inside the Gate itself. When my father told me that, I didn't know how to get back. I couldn't perform alchemy at all," Ed swallowed, allowing himself to pause. "As I was figuring out how to get back, a huge aircraft came down on me. I couldn't get away. The next thing I knew, I was coming back out of the Gate and into our world again."

And then, he was silent.

For the first time in his life, Edward was _afraid_ to speak. Putting the truth into words would mean admitting what his science actually was. To say what he needed to say meant that he had to acknowledge that sin.

It scared him to death, but it had to be done.

"I came back because of the sacrifice of _his_ life. I was only able to return because _he_ had died. What my father had said made sense," he whispered, barely able to get the words out. Somehow, though, he had to. "He told me that we open the gate inside of our bodies when we perform a transmutation. The energy that comes out of the gate is…it's…"

Roy tilted the young man's head up so that he was looking him in the eyes again. Ed had barely realized he's looked away.

"The lives of people who die in the other world," he whispered, slumping. "Their lives are what fuel our transmutations – from serious ones to trivial ones, all transmutations are done with _their_ energy. What we pay is _nothing_ compared to what they give us."

There was a brief silence that followed Ed's words, and he found himself stunned by the look on Roy's face. The older man looked like someone had accused him of mass murder – and, by all rights, Ed probably had…in a way. And now, the guilt the boy _knew_ the older man felt about having killed with alchemy was undoubtedly multiplied at least tenfold. Killing for something to kill with…there was no way he wouldn't make the connection.

And, at once, Ed found himself crushed to the older man's chest. He wasn't sure what it was – his lungs constricting out of nervousness, his fatigue from saying such stressful things, or just Roy's powerful arms holding him – but he could barely breathe. His arms were both dangling limp at his sides, and he could feel the left one beginning to go numb. All the same, he didn't fight back. He _couldn't_ fight back when the man before him was so vulnerable.

He couldn't do _anything_.

It wasn't guilt or anything of the like that prevented him from retaliating. Far from it, he needed this, too. It had been too long since he'd had a comfort like this, too many days, weeks, _months_ since he'd been able to feel guilty in a fair way.

But it suddenly changed, and Ed didn't know what to do anymore. All of a sudden, he was pressed against the sheets, pinned by strong arms. The older man was straddling _him_, now, and he felt completely defenseless. He would've tried to fight back, of course, but the look in his superior's eye stopped him before he even started.

He'd never seen anyone who looked so lost.

Ed didn't resist at all when Roy tugged at his tank-top. He _couldn't_ resist someone who looked like they'd lost everything, even if it was in a situation like this one. Roy was someone he trusted, and that wasn't something to put aside lightly.

So, the teenager decided to wait.

Roy ran his hands over the metal gears at the younger man's shoulder. It seemed almost like he was exploring, his fingertips raking over the screws and bolts before tracing the edge. The sensitive skin surrounding the limb was barely being touched, but it sent waves of sensation through Ed's body. He swallowed hard, lying passively and struggling to keep control of himself.

He would trust the older man.

The dark-haired man finished his examination of the fake limb and moved on. He traced over a small scar on Ed's _other_ shoulder and kept at his steady exploration. A hand trailed down the blonde's chest, and Ed fought to keep himself from arching into the faint touch. As much as his mind screamed at him for letting Roy have his way like this, his body's call was much easier for him to hear and understand. It was telling him that what the older man was doing would be pleasant and incredible, and that he should let him do what he wanted. It made more sense to him that the protesting his mind made.

The touches grew more daring, fingers pressing harder against the skin. Ed was surprised to find that his breathing was growing heavy, and his blood was settling in a part of his body that _ached_ for the attention the other parts were getting. Roy leaned in and rested his chin on the teenager's shoulder, his own breath slightly labored and his lips just barely brushing the side of Ed's neck.

That simple touch sent sparks traveling full speed from the area of contact to his groin. Ed resisted the urge to groan.

As suddenly as it had begun, though, it stopped. Roy's hand stilled and his face focused in again. Ed met his eye, and although he was a little fuzzy, he could still see the absolute shock on the older man's countenance. Said man pushed himself up, looked straight down at the teenager, and immediately collapsed atop him.

"What the fuck was I _doing_?" he asked, and Ed barely heard him.

"Why did you stop?" the blonde replied, and he could feel Roy stiffen above him. And speaking of stiff, there was a betraying hardness pressed up against his thigh; Ed may have been a virgin, but he definitely knew what it meant. Roy took a deep breath.

"You're only 16, Ed; it's illegal for me to even _touch_ you," he whispered, breath tickling the younger man's ear. Ed shivered, and Roy paused. "Besides, you don't know what you really want – your hormones are driving you. I shouldn't have done what I did. I _really_ shouldn't have, and I'm going to get up right now so that nothing happens that shouldn't."

As soon as Roy said this, Ed wrapped an arm around his lower back, preventing him from going anywhere. Yes, Ed could understand what the man was saying; he knew perfectly well how wrong this was, but he couldn't help it. There was no _way_ it couldn't be good; they were both obviously hot and ready…even if he understood, he couldn't let this stop _now_.

"Fullmetal," he started, trying to push himself up. Ed held strong and kept him where he was. "Fullmetal – Ed, please; I need to talk to you. If we really want to do this, we need to talk."

Ed kept his hands where they were.

"We can talk like this," he whispered, and Roy went slack. After a few seconds, he loosened his grip, and the moment he did so, Roy was sitting up and pulling him into a sitting position as well. The older man's face was flushed.

"Sex is serious, Edward; believe me. It changes everything," Roy said steadily, running a hand over the bedspread. Ed imagined there was about sixteen inches space between them. "It can ruin good relationships and destroy comfort levels between people. Not only that, but it's illegal for someone my age to screw someone _yours_. Do you think you risk that?"

Ed nodded, dropping his gaze to the man's lips before speaking again.

"Not a word will come out of my mouth about it, I promise. Besides, wizarding 'legal' is 17; I'll be that in a month. And—well, since when have I been anything _close_ to a normal teenager?"

Roy stood up and walked to the bathroom, and Ed let his face drop. So his answer hadn't been good enough…it was quite a blow. However, when he returned after only a few seconds, the blonde let himself raise an eyebrow.

"I was getting something," was all Roy said before pinning Ed again. Whatever he'd taken from the bathroom was placed at the head of the bed and ignored. The teenager felt a degree of glee as well as a _lot_ more pleasure than he expected when the General's lips fell to his neck.

While the older man's actions had been slow and careless before, they certainly weren't now. He licked up Ed's neck – still slightly slower than Ed would've liked, but not all _that_ slowly. All the tension Ed had been feeling from the stress of the day was finally going away. His shoulders relaxed and he let his fingers travel up to trace the scars over Roy's torso. A pinch on his nipple made him pull his hands up.

Ed couldn't help but watch as Roy gently moved in to suckle the nipple he'd just pinched, and he arched as unfamiliar feelings hit him in an enormous wave of sensation. His hands clenched the blankets beneath him and he tried not to buck his hips against the older man's. The other nipple was given the same treatment, and Ed again had to do his best to not move too much. The sensations were unlike anything he'd ever felt before, but they felt so natural…

And they were only for this man above him.

Ed tentatively ran his fingers over Roy's shoulders and carded his hands through the thick black hair. It wasn't soft, but by no means was it _coarse_; if anything, it was just cool and full. The older man licked down his chest, and Ed found himself unable to hold back a small moan, massaging the scalp in his hands. He felt his superior officer smirk against his skin.

"Don't be afraid to make noise, Ed," he whispered, the vibrations traveling right down to his groin. The blonde moaned again, arching his hips and connecting them with the older man's. That movement bore a strangled groan from his partner.

Roy slid his body further down Edward's, stopping when his head was directly over the younger man's hips. He looked up as if to ask permission, and Ed nodded. He slowly pulled the boxers down and tossed them to the other bed, where all of Ed's clothes had wound up. The man leaned in, and all coherent thought left the blonde.

The General gripped the base of Ed's erection, licking lightly around the tip. Edward, for his part, pressed both hands to his mouth to prevent any sounds from escaping, shifting ever so slightly. It was maddening to him; Roy may have done this before, but this was his _first time_. He couldn't possibly hold out as long. Roy finally wrapped his lips around the tip, sliding the length down toward his throat. Ed arched again, muffling a shriek.

The man sucked once, heartily, and then pulled back. Ed whimpered at the loss of contact, closing his eyes. He felt Roy shift above him, and then there was nothing; he was about to ask what was going on when he felt feather-light touches around his entrance. His eyes snapped open again, and he stared at the older man's face.

"I need to loosen you up if we're going to do this, Ed," Roy explained, gently pressing his finger against the opening. "It may hurt a little, but it'll make it easier when I'm inside."

The very tip of the finger slid inside him, and Ed couldn't imagine how he could _possibly_ take a full erection. Roy twisted the finger slightly, and then pulled it out to spread more of what was revealed to be complimentary hotel lotion. He slid the finger in again, this time inserting it halfway. Ed squirmed in slight discomfort, but didn't say anything. It really didn't hurt too much—

And there was the pain; it came slowly, but it was building. Roy had slipped a second finger into a hole big enough for maybe _one_, and Ed could _feel_ himself being stretched. He kept his face straight, fully aware that it would only get worse.

At least, that's what he thought. Roy wasn't scissoring like he thought he would, though; instead, he was rubbing the fingers inside of him, like he was looking for something. Ed was going to ask what, but a shot of intense pleasure – far greater than any pain he'd felt thus far – made his first word turn into a scream.

Roy smirked down at him, and the teenager was certain he'd never been more confused. He continued to rub against the spot with one finger, the other scissoring him. It should've hurt, he knew, but it felt so good; the pain was insignificant. A third finger slipped in, but Ed barely noticed. He was too far gone, bucking his hips in time with the strokes to his 'spot.' When Roy pulled his fingers out, Ed groaned in disappointment.

"Roy," he moaned, and the older man simply reached above him. He lifted Ed's hips and pressed a pillow beneath him. With that, the blonde's hips fell open wider in compliance. Edward closed his eyes for a moment, and heard a zipper going down.

This was it.

Ed didn't dare watch as Roy prepared himself; instead, he gripped the blankets and tried to relax as much as possible. A touch at his entrance made him hold his breath.

"This part will probably hurt," Roy informed him, and with that he began to press it. At first, it wasn't so bad; if anything, it was just a light pressure. It got worse almost immediately, and he whimpered loudly. The older man looked Ed in the eye.

"Do it fast," Edward whispered, hips twitching. "Please, just do it fast."

Roy nodded, bracing his hands on either side of Ed's waist. Ed prepared himself, and with a sudden, hard thrust Roy was completely sheathed.

Edward screamed, sound muffled only by his own hands over his mouth. It hurt, but he knew it had to get better. It _had_ to. Roy held still for a moment, and then carefully wrapped his hand around the younger man's weeping erection. Ed didn't buck up – he _knew_ it would hurt if he did – but he did moan out lightly. The older man slid his hand up and down, the pre-cum lubricating each stroke. As he did this, Ed could feel him slowly pulling out, and then quickly thrusting back in.

"Aaaaah!" Ed let out a shout, one that was one part pain, two parts pleasure. The pain was nearly gone, and he was certain that he'd never felt anything like it. "God!"

Roy seemed to take this as a sign, starting to thrust in a steady rhythm. Ed moaned loudly with each thrust, bucking up into Roy's willing hand. The military man sped up, and was soon slamming into the teenager; the blonde couldn't help but clutch at the broad shoulders above him. The sounds coming from his mouth were in no way making sense, but he couldn't care less at the moment.

He panted and moaned, all too aware of the growing pressure in his stomach. Roy as moving faster than ever, and Ed wasn't sure if he could last much longer. It was dizzying, incredible – he wanted it to go on forever, but never end.

And suddenly, his world exploded. He felt himself go over the edge, screaming Roy's name as he was wracked with spasm after spasm, body locking and relaxing over and over. Then, just as everything was starting to right itself, Roy slammed in to the hilt, groaning out his name, and Ed felt hot cum warm up his insides. That alone brought him to what felt like a second climax, and he could've _sworn_ he blacked out for a moment. When he came back to consciousness, Roy was pulling out; he collapsed to the side of him, panting.

For a few moments, the two simply lay there; Ed couldn't believe it. He'd just lost his virginity to the most arrogant bastard in the world – and he'd _enjoyed_ it. Part of him was saying "I told you so!" and the other, more logical part was telling him that he _really_ needed to get his boxers on again.

Then, Roy slowly pushed himself up. Ed watched, not at all uncomfortable about doing so, as the older man walked naked to the bathroom. He heard water running, and then Roy walked out with a wet washcloth in hand. The teenager started to sit up, but his superior officer shook his head, sitting on the bed. He carefully wiped Edward's stomach, and Ed began to realize just how messy their sex had been. Apparently, he'd shot cum all over his stomach, chest, and a good potion of Roy's front as well. He was embarrassed.

"Get dressed while I clean myself off," Roy murmured, clapping Ed on the shoulder. The blonde nodded, careful not to look at the older man as he did what he was asked to. He heard rustling sounds and knew that Roy was doing the same thing he was. Oddly, though, Ed couldn't find his tank-top.

"I guess it's bedtime," he joked, searching the area around his bed for his remaining clothing. "But I can't figure out where you threw my shirt."

A hand on his hip made Edward turn around, and he was promptly pulled into bed with an obviously exhausted Roy. He started to protest, but his words died on his lips as Roy claimed them with his own. The older man pulled away after a moment, pulling up the blankets around them. One of his arms wrapped itself around the teenager's waist, and Ed found his face buried comfortably in the General's chest.

Ed glanced at the clock just before sleep claimed him.

4:43 a.m.

When Roy awoke, he felt something was off. He wasn't a morning person – many around the office knew that – and for him to even _notice_ something was wrong was inconceivable at best. After a few seconds, he realized exactly what was different. Smooth breaths ghosted across his right forearm, and he was able to groggily trace the source.

Edward.

Roy blinked a few times, memories of what had transpired the previous night coming back in a flash. He sighed heavily and yawned, altogether too comfortable with the situation.

He'd done things that he _knew_ he shouldn't have done for five reasons. And he had loved doing it; the reasons were simple. He should never have:

Fucked a minor.

Fucked a _subordinate_.

Fucked a man.

Fucked a student.

Fucked someone 14 years younger than him.

It was true that a few of the reasons seemed pretty repetitive, but it was a decent list. All the same, he was fine with it. He knew that screwing Edward would have been problematic, to say the least, but he couldn't care less.

It had been the best lay he'd had in _months_.

Roy glanced at the clock, trying to figure out exactly how long he'd been out of it. It said that it was 9:17. Hell; he had a day off, and he'd only gotten a few hours of sleep. He could get up and get something to eat…maybe some coffee, too. Then again, that would involve waking the human sandbag that was Edward. He scolded the boy internally for falling asleep on him.

Although…given what they had done last night, it would be _very_ bad judgment to call him a "boy" anymore. He would have to think up more titles.

Screw it all.

Just as he was preparing to get up, Roy heard a sharp rapping at the door, followed by a voice. His blood ran cold.

"Professor Mustang, are you awake? I thought we agreed that we would meet at 8:30 to discuss your positions," the dissonant voice of Professor McGonagall called. "I'm coming in."

Ed shifted quickly, and Roy tried his best to do the same. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and looked at the younger man. Ed was wide eyed, clutching a blanket to himself and covering his auto-mail arm. The General wondered exactly when he'd woken up.

The door clicked and opened, and both stared up at the people outside.

There stood McGonagall, of course, but with her were three _other_ people. People Roy _really_ didn't want to see him half-naked in a bed with a teenager; he was absolutely mortified. Pinako and Winry Rockbell were right behind her, and that Neville kid Ed had pointed out was speaking to them, apparently nervous. McGonagall's eyes could've popped out of her head.

"What…in…blazes…is going _on_?" she shrieked, and that brought the unnecessary attentions of the three behind her. Neville gasped, Pinako blinked, and Winry…well, she just went _crazy_.

"_Edward? What the hell is _THIS?" she screamed, marching into the room. Before anyone could get a word in, she had slapped Roy. "I _knew_ something was wrong! I _knew_ it! How could you _do_ something like this? This is…it's…_this is so wrong I don't even know what to say!_"

Roy rubbed his cheek, relieved that she had only hit him once. It must've been all the time doing mechanical work that had done it – she was strong. McGonagall crossed the room and touched Ed's visible shoulder.

"Are you decent under those blankets?" she asked, and when Ed nodded, she yanked him to his feet. "Good; I can only imagine--"

Roy didn't need to ask what had made her go quiet.

"Your arm…it's really metal," she said, voice softer than before. Neville's jaw was threatening to hit the ground, and Roy could almost see the fear in his eyes. "So it is true; your friend told me about it, but I wasn't sure if she was telling the truth. I suppose it shouldn't be surprising."

Roy let his gaze shift back to Edward; he was standing next to the other side of the bed, a black cloak draped around his shoulders. A faint blush was on his cheeks, and when he saw Roy looking at him, he immediately looked away.

"Have you been…crying?" Neville suddenly asked, and Roy blinked. Sure, he'd noticed the symptoms, but they weren't from crying. The puffy eyes were from a lack of sleep, the blush was…well, it was there because of him, he was sure…and the situation suddenly became its own alibi. The military man smirked internally, but sighed outside. To his delight, attention was turned to him.

"As I would have explained if Miss Rockbell hadn't hit me," he began putting his hands on his hips. He could only hope Ed would go along with this. "Edward had a pretty rough night. Seeing Alphonse again was…emotionally taxing. Soon thereafter, he insisted on knowing what had happened to me since he'd seen me. I realize now that I should have waited until he was more stable, but I'm afraid I didn't last night. I hadn't meant to make accepting what had happened any harder than it already was."

McGonagall seemed skeptical, but everyone else seemed to be buying it. Even Pinako was nodding, pipe dangling from her fingertips. Ed blushed more heavily and looked away from _everyone_.

"You had a pretty rough night, too," he muttered, sitting down again. "And it will _never_ happen again. I guarantee it."

That seemed to appease McGonagall, and she began a conversation with Edward and Neville – though Roy had no idea why she was including the boy – about Ed's military service in Amestris. Th older man was only half-listening, too preoccupied with his own thoughts to pay any real attention.

Ed had just made it clear that their _session_ the previous night was a one-time thing. Roy could respect that, and he planned to do so. Nonetheless, it seemed somewhat odd to him that the boy could be so unattached. As he'd said before, sex was _big._ It _did_ change things, and he knew it all too well. Given that Edward was just a teenager, it was even bigger. It was something _enormous_.

But he really wasn't acting like it. To Roy, at least, he seemed completely calm. The only indication that he had even been the _slightest_ bit embarrassed was the fact that he had blushed. It was like he was hardly affected.

It was different for Roy.

He'd never look at Ed the same way again, and he knew it. When he looked at him, he would _really_ look at him. He wouldn't see some fuming blonde teenager or subordinate. Ed was no longer just some boy, just someone he could think of like a family member. Now, he was more.

Now, Roy knew, he would see him as a mature young man. He was passionate, sexual, emotional to a point that exceeded anything he'd previously seen from the boy, and – he had to admit it – _attractive._ Ed hadn't been changed, other than the fact that had he been a virgin (and he really didn't know whether or not he was), he wasn't anymore. All the same, he had changed dramatically in Roy's eyes.

And, he realized as Edward managed to "sneak" a look at him, a look that he saw immediately, it was likewise.

Thus a _wonderful _day in the life of Roy Mustang.

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,Okay – it's FUN TIME! (Read: I didn't want to include a visit in chapter five, so we get this).,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

While Edward was visiting Alphonse again – family only hours, unfortunately – Roy had been subjugated to the worst possible job. He would've gone through a thousand hours of paperwork just to avoid it. This _had_ to be his punishment for sleeping with Ed.

"Professor Mustang?"

Roy blinked, turning his attention back to a certain Neville Longbottom and trying to avoid having an "I've been lamenting over the fact that I'm stuck with you" look on his face. He cleared his throat.

"Anyway," he murmured, standing straight up in front of Neville. "In Amestris, the military is a major part of everyday life. Now, though, we rely on a parliament."

Neville scratched some notes down, and Roy caught a glance at the clock. He still had 45 minutes before Ed came back. Forty-five minutes of teaching an imbecile Amestrian culture for "extra credit."

Ed's "extra credit" had been way more fun.

He caught himself just as Neville looked back up and immediately began speaking again, trying not to let his mind wander.

"We rely on a parliament because our previous leader, Fuhrer King Bradley, vanished. It was later revealed that he had been planning to undermine the military and take full control of Amestris."

_Under…Ed writhing, sweating; moans and gasps as he—_

"In addition, we have completely revised many of our laws. Some regarded complex things – such as policy for handling a rebellious group when they pose a threat to our security as a nation – and some were _less_ complex. A good example is our definition of marriage: a union of two _people_, homosexual or heterosexual."

_Tight, hot walls…blonde hair trying to escape its bondage – bondage—_

"Also, our policies regarding State Alchemists have been revised. A new law proclaims that--" Neville cut him off.

"Um…Professor Mustang, isn't Edward a State Alchemist?" he asked; when Roy nodded, the boy seemed tentative about something. "Then…how old do you have to be to become one?"

"Eighteen," Roy answered. "But Edward's case is different. He was allowed in because he provided a _service_ to a higher-up and to our nation. All the same, he has more restrictions placed on his missions than a lot of us do. For example, he's not allowed into a combat zone unless accompanied by four other State Alchemists."

Neville considered this, and Roy's mind wandered again.

_Panting, moaning, hard thrusts; screaming, the rush of—_

_StopthinkingaboutitStopthinkingaboutitStopthinkingaboutit_STOPTHINKINGABOUTIT!

"Professor?"

Roy shook his head, running a hand through his hair. This was ridiculous! He wasn't some hormone-driven teenager; he was a grown man. He should have _some_ control over his libido by now.

"Yes, anyway…Ed's case is special," he finished blandly, looking at the clock again. Thirty-five minutes. "Any questions?"

Neville nodded.

"One; I was just kind of wondering…why live in Amestris? It sounds like it's all war and desert and bad stuff," the boy murmured, cocking his head. Frustration and annoyance burst out consecutively from the older man.

"Amestris is not at _all_ like that! While it does have its downsides, it is a _fine_ place to live, and as a member of its military, I have a right to say it!" he erupted, positively fuming. "And _anyone_ with a _spec_ of Amestrian pride would tell you so!"

The boy nodded, completely silent. Roy sighed.

"Lesson adjourned."

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.Author's Notes,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Yo! Sorry about the wait…I've been busy. I got a second job to earn tuition money and stuff, so…yeah. I have problems.

Anyway, I've gotten mixed feedback on the topic of MPREG vs. Non-MPREG, so I've come to a conclusion to appease both the masses. I shall create…two stories! I'll post the MPREG version here – in this particular story – and label the non-MPREG version as a "Sequel" to "Grindewald" named "Grindewald: Redux" or something. It'll split ways later, so this will be THE story for a while.

More work for me, but that's okay. Whatever makes the readers happy.

Moving on, opinions are welcome! How's Roy's brother sound? He doesn't play a major role, really – yes, he makes some appearances, but nothing huge – but I like his character. And…Ed never explained how equivalent exchange _does_ exist. Look forward to that in chapter seven.

Oh, and regarding the lemon…I had planned to stop it after the whole shirt-removal thing, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. So, diverting from the plan, I have brought the initial lemon in five chapters early. It was unplanned, in other words, so I'M SORRY IF IT SUCKS. But, on the plus side, INITIAL lemon indicates more!

(If anyone reports me, I'm gonna be pissed. One more infraction and I'm off is said and done. Review!

Thank you.


	6. Hastening Revelations

A/N: Yo! Rein here. Sorry about the RIDICULOUSLY long wait for the chapter - it would've been up sooner, but I had A TON to do. Among other things, I had school, work, travel, translating and interpreting for a Japanese high school band, traveling to Tennessee to see relatives I haven't seen in years (including the little German-speaking cousins who become new appendages for me whenever I visit), paperwork for early graduation and independent study, NINE performances (including three solos), twelve rehearsals with the big bands, three with school, jazz band, shopping, and practice/memorizations of a sonnet of Shakespeare's (Number 36, if you're interested - and a MAJOR interpretation of it) and Gertrude of the play "Hamlet" (Act 4, Scene 7, lines 166-183) for a competition. Between all that, I've been beta-ing, fundraising, filling college apps and financial aid forms, and attempting to deal with a grandfather with pancreatic cancer, a grandmother with her SEVENTEENTH skin cancer surgery coming up, reorganization of ALL of my things, scheduling meetings with the principal of my school concerning my place in the graduation CEREMONY, and having a slight social life among everything else. So, short of time-travel, I've managed due to massive insomnia and forcefully learned time-management. And as a result, I present to you THIS!!!!! As this was written mostly at work, during Media Studies, Physics, and Shakespeare, and in-between classes at lunch, I didn't always have what I'd written previously with me...and so I had to do a lot of editing. I apologize if it's a bit jumpy.

Since I'm fairly certain that about 20 of the readers will read this A/N, I'm going to post it here - for you, the best of the best. The MPREG I have planned for this version of the story...well, let's just say that it's not gonna be where you think. I don't see any reason to make Ed feel worse about himself than he already does...but there's a certain naive and uncertain young man in his life that I feel NO pity in impregnating. No, it's _not_ Neville...() That's all you're getting! Good luck on guessing. Becomes fairly obvious if you read between the lines here...and if you've picked up on my ever-so-slight hinting started in chapter ONE. IF ANYONE GUESSES CORRECTLY, I WILL E-MAIL HIM/HER. Grand prize winner gets to pick the theme for the omake at the end of chapter ten. I encourage everyone to try! (For bonus points - and bonus input - name the father!) GOOD LUCK!

ON WITH THE STORY!!!!!!

Chapter Six: "Hastening Revelations"

It was late now, and Roy was more than a little interested in what was on Edward's mind. The teenager looked just as tired as he had the previous night, but he seemed a lot more relaxed. At least, he seemed relaxed around Winry and Neville. Earlier, when he'd run into him while on the way to lunch, he seemed nervous and edgy.

Somehow, it amused the older man as much as it worried him.

Roy had been concerned that Ed might have been too young for sex, and to see him skirting around all contact with the man more or less proved it. The night before, Edward had pushed for it, so Roy had obliged. Comfort sex, in every sense of the term; it wasn't something that was foreign to the older man. It was natural for him – _he'd done it before_. It had been so easy to forget that the blonde hadn't.

It had certainly been a comfort to know that Ed wasn't avoiding him altogether, though; Roy should've remembered the kind of person the teenager was. If he was angry, he let it out. If he was nervous or scared, he went in with more force than necessary. And, most importantly, Ed was the kind of person who _always_ faced anything problematic. He _never_ ran away.

But he should; this time, at least, he should.

The train they were on was empty, save for the two alchemists and one other man that Roy knew only as Lupin. He ate at the staff table and had attended the teachers' meeting three days prior, but the reason for his presence was still fuzzy. Had they not boarded together, though, Roy wouldn't have known he was there. The man had remained in his own car since they'd left the station.

Ed could've had his own room as well, but had instead decided on sharing a room with Roy. The General's head rang with the possibilities for the night.

But he had to forget them. If Ed wanted to have sex again, he wouldn't have said what he did. He'd made it _perfectly_ clear that the previous night had been a one-time thing, and Roy could respect that. As much as he wanted it himself, he would have to control his hormones around the teen.

"Hey, about last night," Ed began hesitantly, and Roy turned to look at him. The blonde was blushing cutely. He actually wanted to talk about it? This could be good or bad.

"What about it?" Roy asked, suddenly conscious of his open shirt. He hoped it was appealing to the blonde.

"There's not much I can say. There's a million things I want to, but I just don't know _how_," Ed murmured, looking Roy right in the eye. "I'm not…that is, I don't really like you, per say. Not romantically, I mean. I like you as a person, kinda, but not as a…a _lover_," he choked on the word. Roy nodded him on. "Anyway, I liked it last night. A lot. And…uh…shit."

When Ed blushed more heavily and looked away, Roy let out a smirk.

"Would you like to…make a _habit_ out of it?" he asked, voice dropping. The blonde's head snapped up again, blush intensified.

"Shut up," he hissed. Before Roy could question whether he'd done something wrong, Ed was sitting on the bed right next to him. He was resting a hand on Roy's hip, and the man tried to ignore it. "I'd like to fuck now and talk later."

That was all the provocation Roy needed, and – before Ed could blink – the man was atop him, pressing him into the sheets.

The General took in the lustful look on the teen's face and, almost without thinking, laid his hands on either side of the blonde's body, spanning his waist. It was something he was used to doing to women. Upon realizing his mistake and after a questioning look from his partner, he attempted to rectify it by sliding both hands down to the boy's thighs and squeezing.

Ed tensed slightly when Roy caressed his hips, but the latter man didn't perceive this as a bad reaction. He experimentally traced a path up the inner thigh, rewarded for his efforts with a small gasp. The teen's mismatched hands clutched at the open shirt, face still flushed.

After succeeding in pulling the tie from Ed's braid, Roy leaned in and kissed the tanned neck, fingers spreading the hair around absently. He flicked his tongue out, testing for a reaction. When Ed arched his shoulders, the General slid an arm under them, pulling him close. He nipped and licked the flesh beneath his lips ferociously, listening closely. The whimpers and gasps traveled straight to his groin, and before he knew it he was hard as a rock.

Roy pulled away, hands seeking out the bottom of the blonde's tank top. He tugged it over the blonde head, hair flying everywhere, and tossed it to the side of the bed. All he could concentrate on was the slim yet muscular chest before him.

He splayed his hands across the smooth flesh, sitting on the younger man's muscular thighs. Roy took great pleasure in the sounds escaping the blonde and, as such, worked to bring more out of him.

Rolling his hips forward, Roy moaned upon meeting Ed's obvious bulge. The teen let out a strangled groan, bucking his hips upward. He panted, head thrown back and mouth open. Roy was completely aroused by this point, achingly hard and pressing against the front of his pants. Ed seemed to be in the same state, breathing irregularly.

"Roy," he moaned, arching his back. His lips closed and parted again, a slight sheen of sweat all over his body. His eyes were vacant. "Ah, fuck…"

Roy unbuttoned his cuffs, amused when Ed grabbed the hem of the shirt and tried to pull it over his head. He helped as best he could, lifting his arms and shrugging with him. The blonde managed to get it off and threw it somewhere.

As soon as his arms were free, Roy attacked the younger man's boxers, yanking them down. Before he could do anything else, though, Ed pushed against his shoulders.

"Wait," he whispered, and Roy felt his jaw clench.

"What?" the man asked, trying not to glare at his subordinate. If Ed wanted to back out now, then what was all that foreplay _for_?! The younger alchemist seemed to be reading his mind.

"Do you have any…uh, stuff?" Ed asked, gripping Roy's forearms. Roy nodded in relief, motioning toward his bag. After he had responded, the older man attacked the younger's neck again. By the time he came up for air again, his pants were already down to his knees and Ed was reaching for the lotion.

Roy took it from him, nodding in silent thanks. He spread the teen's legs, teasing his entrance, before reaching for a pillow and forcing it beneath Ed's hips. The General suckled a nipple while spreading lotion over two of his fingers. He pressed them against his partner's entrance and carefully breached it, probing lightly. Ed twitched, but otherwise didn't show any signs of discomfort. The older man glanced up the younger's body, not surprised that he'd closed his eyes. That made sense.

What didn't was the fact that he kept murmuring "stupid" under his breath.

Deciding to ask about it later rather than now, Roy scissored his fingers. His subordinate gasped in pain, but lifted his hips a little more. He worked harder to open the boy, using his free hand to grip Ed's manhood. It was dripping with pre-cum, his own natural lubricant, and Roy took full advantage of it, sliding the length of it up and down easily while still working on the teenager's entrance. Before too long, his fingers were tired and the ache between his legs was unbearable. Ed's whimpering wasn't helping any.

Edward's breath hitched as Roy positioned himself at his entrance, hands coming up to clutch at the man's shoulders. He pushed in carefully, slowly, until the hands tightened and he remembered how it had gone the night before. Roy met Ed's eyes, a silent communication passing between them, and promptly thrust himself in as far as he could.

Ed let out a sound that could've been a long grunt or a short scream – Roy couldn't quite tell which – and dug his nails deep into the older man's flesh. Roy winced at this, but otherwise didn't say anything. He instead took the opportunity to run a hand through the younger man's soft hair, trying not to concentrate below his belt. Being inside of Ed was maddening; it was tight, hot, and the General wondered if he'd have even a minute before he came. It was torture to not be able to move.

But the blonde seemed to be recovering, and Roy decided to speed things up as he had the previous night. His fingers found Edward's wet erection again and began running over it, settling into a slow rhythm. The teenager twitched and strained against the sheets, an aroused and vacant look in his eyes.

"Are you doing okay?" Roy managed, mind overtaken by the urge to pound his subordinate into the bed. Ed nodded.

"Yeah," he said breathily. "Just…it feels _tight_…stretched. You know…to its limit. And…I…Ah…"

Edward trailed off when Roy shifted above him, releasing his manhood and putting his weight on his elbows. He took it to be a good thing, though, and began to move his hips lightly, just enough to cause a little friction. When Ed let out a strangled moan, the older man knew it was okay to keep going. He set a slow pace and tried not to lose it too fast.

Soon enough, Ed was moving with him, shifting left and right, bucking his hips occasionally. Roy sped up just slightly, and the teen's movements sped up with him. There were soft moans and gasps coming out of his partner, just loud enough to be audible. Ed's eyes had closed again, face screwed up in concentration, and Roy couldn't help but pinch a nipple to surprise him. The younger alchemist jumped when he did; it brought Roy to lean in and nibble up his throat.

Would Edward allow him to kiss him? He had the previous night, but that was a tired, satiated kiss. He hadn't been _able_ to fight. Nonetheless, he had to try, and moved his face upward.

First, Roy brushed his lips against the teen's, careful not to immediately overtake his mouth. Ed tilted his head back, and Roy gave a distinctly harder thrust as he pressed their lips together. It wasn't a soft kiss, but it was by no means harsh. The older man ran his tongue across the boy's lower lip, following that by poking it between them, thrusting the same rhythm all through it. Ed finally opened his mouth, and Roy began exploring the cavern. It was wet, warm, and minty; and after a few seconds, the blonde whimpered into the kiss.

Roy pulled away, panting harder and unable to stop himself from upping the pace.

Ed reached above his head and grasped the sheets beneath him, groaning out again. By now, Roy's control was gone. He knew it was gone, and he had no problems with that. He hooked his hands around the teenager's knees, thrusting harder and changing his angle. It seemed to do something incredible to his partner, though, because his eyes snapped open and he gasped, staring Roy in the eye. He did it again and again, Ed crying out sharply and wrapping his legs around his waist as he did so.

"Aah…Roy…" he warned. "I-I'm gonna…ROY!!"

With that shout, Ed arched his back and shook violently, legs tightening around the man's waist. Feeling Ed convulse around him and spray his chest was all Roy needed, and he hissed out the boy's name as he came, giving a few quick thrusts.

The two collapsed, breathing erratically, and Roy pulled out after some time. Ed was out like a light as soon as the General finished wiping his cum off both of them. He crawled in soon after, drifting off to sleep soon enough.

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.**

It might've been a few minutes; it might've been an hour, but Ed woke up to find Roy missing from the bed. The occurrence, while strange, should've been normal. He sat up and tried to look around, but found the compartment empty. After a few seconds, he gave up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Something caught his eye.

His clothes were neatly folded at the foot of his bed. Ed blinked, a smile tugging at his lips. Roy was acting like a mother - which was strange, considering what the two had _done_...

Pulling the garments on and checking with the mirror to make sure the bites on his shoulder hadn't bruised, the teenager sighed in relief. He proceeded to oil his wrist and fingers before yanking his gloves on and slipping over to Lihst. She clicked her beak at him.

"Whatever," he replied, smiling at her. She chirped back, and he took the opportunity to pour her more water. Eventually, he'd get to learn some _useful_ spells. "So, when'd the bastard leave?"

A knock at the door snapped him out of his reverie. Clearing his throat, Ed walked toward the door, aware that Roy had probably left his key to the room. He reached for the knob and opened it, propping a hand on his hip as he did so.

"Maybe _you_ should be the one in school, Roy," he teased before actually looking at the person he was antagonizing. His mouth hung open as he did so.

"Actually, Edward," the man in the doorway said. "My name is _Remus_."

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.**

Roy, for his part, was pleasantly ignorant of Edward's plight. He was, instead, busy looking at a blank slip of parchment and contemplating all the possible forms of faking his own death. By his side was a letter in an elegant hand he had learned to recognize years ago.

_Dear Roy,_

_Thank you for writing to me. I was concerned that you might be too busy to keep in contact. Yes, my shoulder is fine now; it wasn't that deep a wound._

_I assume that Edward is doing well? I've sent along the necessary paperwork to allow him a temporary leave for recovery from an injury. The parliament has been informed that he was recovering in Scotland after being sent to a specialist and is currently undergoing continuing treatment for injuries sustained in the collapse of Old Central._

_Also, an investigation headed by General Hakuro is underway unto the events that transpired directly after the Fuhrer's disappearance. It would be wisest to remain in Scotland yourself until it has ended. I've been brought in for questioning once, but it was more on the death of his son than the disappearance itself. I expect that I'll be interrogated again in the near future._

_On a more personal note, Roy, I've received a note from the headmistress at your workplace. She's invited me to come in November for a demonstration of the Amestrian military for your class. The way she phrased it seemed to present little choice in the matter, and I've agreed. I'm anxious to go - in a positive way. It doesn't feel right, if I may say so, to have you so far away. These letters are all I have to communicate with you through, and it doesn't seem fair that way._

_Before you reach for the bourbon and rum, please consider how long we've been together. I've been your friend and subordinate for nearly six years. Isn't it natural for me to consider us close? And you are well aware of my feelings on the matter. It's difficult to hold on with you so far. I'd like an answer._

_I look toward our reunion in November with glee. I hold out hope that you'll respond to this letter._

_Riza_

It had taken Roy only a few moments to read the note; it was the comprehension thereof that took the better part of half an hour. Only Riza, _only_ Riza, _only_ Lieutenant First-Class Riza Elizabeth Hawkeye could integrate military reporting and a personal letter. The general rested his head in his hands, gritting his teeth. Only Riza.

He used his free hand to trace the cursive "R" of her name and sighed. Six years. They'd known each other for six years. She knew _everything_ he'd done. Of course she knew - she was always _there_, right beside him. Even in groups, she always gravitated to his side - or he to hers. It was the same in or out of work, especially since the incident with Bradley. And now she was coming to Hogwarts. The least McGonagall could've done was _warn _him.

Riza was something of an acquired taste - _never _before had Roy met someone who so contradicted herself. She was soft-spoken, yet willful...gentle, but blunt...and feminine, but _commanding_. And, for a time, Roy the admiration he held for her was deeper. He truly believed his love for her was romantic.

But he was proven incorrect.

He _knew_ it was platonic love - the love good friends had for each other - that he felt the first time they had sex, nearly three years ago. The ways she tasted, she felt, she smelled, she sounded...they were all wrong. It should've been perfect - firm breasts, long legs, golden hair, and _the wet heat_...but it wasn't. The sex was good, but he knew they would only ever be friends.

Riza herself had to know that, but she insisted on continuing on as if nothing were amiss. He met her family, first as a co-worker, then as a friend...and then, her mother asked if they were dating yet.

But nothing made him question his judgment more than when she began living with him in the wake of Ed's disappearance. Despite her obvious guilt and shame in allowing anything to happen to him, he found himself wanting to see her more...to touch her, to watch her, to comfort her. The old attraction came back...

Just in time to see her discover _another_ man.

The mutual attraction between the two was painfully obvious to Roy. It was to be expected, though; Riza was six years his junior and would've _hated_ growing old with an old man. It wouldn't have been fair to even think of letting her hang on to him.

The blank parchment glared at him in challenge. Resigning to his fate, he lifted the quill he'd brought and positioned it at the top of his paper.

_Riza-_

_Ed's doing okay. We're visiting Al in a hospital out here - he's fine, so you know. You can take your hand from your mouth._

_(We have been together too long, haven't we.)_

_You know how I feel about paperwork. Thank you _so_ much for sending me more. I appreciate the effort taken to ensure that I keep my job._

_Concerning the investigation, the best defense is a powerful offense. I'll leave you to decide what that means._

_So you're coming to Hogwarts. Ed'll probably be happy to see you. Who's going to take care of Hayate?_

_Riza, you don't have to wait for me. You know that. You don't belong to me - even as a subordinate. After all these years, I'm not getting rid of you. Besides, if you're that concerned, I'm sure McGonagall would let you visit every so often. And I don't have any bourbon and rum - though I do want some. You know me as well as I know you. That's scary._

_If you want to see him, go ahead. I'm not your boyfriend or anything. We're friends._

_I'll see you in November._

_Roy_

A tentative hand signed the letter and wrote an address, though he knew the owl didn't need it. If anything, it was to remind him that they were apart. The last two paragraphs had been more difficult than anything he'd ever written. And they were a contradiction of sorts. He wanted nothing more than to have her near, yet wished wholeheartedly not to see her. He hoped it was clear enough.

As an afterthought, he scribbled something at the bottom.

_Lai will be happy to see you._

"_**HEY, LOOK! IT'S A BREAK! GO AHEAD AND TAKE THAT POTTY TIME!"**_

Remus escorted Edward off the train, smiling at him. For a moment, the teen really didn't know how to react, but then McGonagall met them at the station. To his surprise, Roy was out right behind him, patting his shoulder gently before walking straight to her with a wary smile.

"Professor Mustang, I would much appreciate it if you were to have dinner with me tonight," she commanded in a very Hawkeye-esque fashion. He nodded curtly, turning to Ed. Before he could say anything, she continued. "Oh, and you will be dining with me _alone_, if I may say. Edward will be having dinner with his housemates."

"Actually," Remus interjected. "I've invited him to have dinner in my rooms."

McGonagall turned to look at the blonde, who shifted uncomfortably. After a few seconds, she sighed heavily and tucked a hair Ed couldn't see behind her ear and crossed her arms, something close to a smile gracing her lips. The young alchemist, after three or four seconds of pre-mortem rigor mortis, slipped his hands into his pockets and grit his teeth, thinking quite seriously that he had _never_ _ever_ seen anything quite so scary in his life.

"I wish you luck, Mr. Elric, and sincerely encourage you to make full use of your Gryffindor bravery for your encounter tonight. I have full confidence that you'll need it," she said curtly, wheeling around. "Remus, don't let him..._do_ too much."

Ed couldn't ask anything before she left, but had he had the chance to, he admitted, that he wouldn't have anyway.

**Yes, the story continues...but I REALLY didn't want to write a transition. Enjoy!**

"Hey," Ed blinked, taking in Remus' eclectic outfit. He couldn't have meant to wear green jeans and a patched red and orange sweater to dinner, could he? "Uh, am I early?"

The older man shook his head, smiling good-naturedly.

"No, not at all. Please come in," he stood aside, holding the door open. Ed stepped in, unsure of what to do. "Thank you for coming tonight."

"Er…no problem," Ed murmured, looking around. The room was pretty big; it had high ceilings, windows covering almost an entire wall, two chandeliers, and a fireplace. Two armchairs and a loveseat sat near it. "You've got a nice office. Er…I mean, you have a nice _room_."

"Hogwarts," Remus began, sitting on the loveseat. "…has been very kind to me, considering its position. I was in a spot of trouble."

Ed nodded, feigning comprehension, as he sat in one of the armchairs.

"That's good," he said, distracted. He wasn't sure what to say. Why couldn't he just come out and say what he wanted to like a military official would? Nice _guys_ were so hard to understand. "Yeah…that was nice of them, Sir."

Remus had apparently noticed the awkwardness surrounding Edward's speech and posture, chuckling softly.

"You can relax, Edward," he smiled at him. "And don't be so proper; since I'm not a teacher and since this isn't a formal occasion, please call me 'Remus'. Everyone else does."

"Okay, Remus," Ed gave the name a try; it felt weird to call him that. "Sorry, but can I ask what kind of trouble you were in?"

Remus paused for a moment, looking at the door. He sighed, still smiling, and Ed tried to imagine him with any other expression. The guy wasn't chipper, per say, but he seemed to like smiling.

"I suppose that's fair," he started, slowly. His smile faded slightly, and he immediately set it back on his face. "After all, I've been told all about you. My 'trouble' wasn't illegal or anything; it wasn't even anything I've done. It's actually completely about my race."

Ed raised an eyebrow; it didn't take an idiot to see that this guy wasn't a minority. Light skin, fair hair, grey eyes; he was your average male.

"What race are you?" he asked, and Remus' smile grew into a grin.

"Why don't you guess? I'll give you three shots," he challenged, sitting back in the chair. Ed smirked back; he loved a good challenge.

"Okay," he pondered, wracking his mind for something he'd learned about races outside of the Amestrian norm. "Liorian?" he guessed, receiving a blank stare as an answer. Strike one. "Uh…Jew-ish?" Remus shook his head.

"No; that's not even it. It's more…physical."

Ed thought for a moment, severely frustrated. He almost _never_ got beaten at this sort of thing.

"I give. What is it?" he conceded. Remus fell back on his smile, and Ed found himself starting to grow tired of it.

"Lycanthropic," he answered, resting his head on the back of his hand. The teenager blinked, trying to remember where he'd heard that word. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't recall…at once, he remembered, jaw attempting to rest in his lap.

"Lycan—wait. You're a…werewolf?" he asked, voice as steady as he could manage it. "You're a _werewolf_?" Remus nodded.

"Yes, I am," he replied, tilting his head. Ed could feel his eyes widening.

"Are you fucking _serious_?" he asked weakly; before the man before him could answer, the door opened and a face all-too-familiar grinned wickedly at him.

"Now _that_ is _wholly_ inappropriate," he snipped, shutting the door and striding over to the loveseat. He stood behind it and looked down at the brown-haired man. "It's _very_ inappropriate."

"But true," Remus shrugged, tilting his head back to look the raven-haired man in the eye. "I am."

"O-oh," Ed stuttered, his mind shutting down. "You're…Black, right?" Black nodded.

"Yup," he responded, walking around the side of the loveseat and sitting aside Remus. "That I am. Your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher; I know it's only been a week, but _honestly_…to think you've forgotten my _name_…I am deeply hurt."

At once, Ed felt embarrassed and angry.

"I've had a lot of shit going on," he growled defensively, turning his gaze back to the man – werewolf? – sitting adjacent to the teacher. "I didn't know that Professor Black would be here, Remus…"

"Why wouldn't I be?" the brunette answered, completely ignoring the fact that Edward _hadn't_ spoken to him. "This is my room, too."

Ed paused for a moment.

"Wait…you guys share a room?" he asked, eyes darting between the two. Remus nodded.

"We do; in much the same way that you and Professor Mustang do," he answered, folding his hands in his lap. Black raised an eyebrow at this, and then blanched.

"God, I hope not," he muttered, chuckling into his hands. Ed felt even _more_ confused now, and Remus's silence wasn't helping any. "Not only would that be completely messed up…it's _illegal_."

Ed was thoroughly confused.

"What?" he asked, watching the extraordinary show on Remus's face. Gone were the smiles and grins. Now, they had been replaced by an embarrassed countenance and many different shades of red. The change was so significant that Ed could've laughed at it, had he not been so lost. The man cleared his throat.

"Well, you'll remember that I said 'yes' when you asked whether I was 'fucking serious'," he said, ignoring the capricious laughter threatening to escape his partner. "About that…"

_"I'm_ Sirius," the aforementioned partner informed him. "Sirius Black."

Ed blinked, the realization suddenly hitting him. He gaped at the two.

"…fucking serious…fucking _Sirius_," he whispered, voice proving that it could change octaves several times in ten syllables. "Okay, that's…that's just not fair. Don't mess with my wording," he finished. His stomach added its own opinions of the situation, apparently not caring if they were off-topic.

"Ah…I'm sorry," Remus bowed his head in humility. "I'd completely forgotten that it was dinnertime. Edward, what's your favorite dish?"

Ed paused, thrown off. He thought for a moment.

"Uh…the ribs. I like the ribs best," he answered. Sirius grinned maniacally.

"Great! That's my favorite, too," he barked, and Ed couldn't help but compare him to a large, over-friendly dog. Wonderful fun, but it was completely impossible. "I guess it must be Moony's influence."

Ed looked at Remus and raised an eyebrow.

"…Moony?" the blonde asked, internally hoping for the man to turn all the different colors he had earlier. To his disappointment, all he did was wink.

"Lycanthropic," he stated playfully, throwing some powder into the fireplace and calling for ribs and bread. Edward sighed.

"Right, right; the werewolf thing. So, you two are…involved?"

Sirius nodded, and Edward was struck by the impression of a dog wagging its tail. This guy was too dog-like for his own good. The teen considered offering him a chew toy.

"That's putting it lightly, but yeah," the man answered, promptly making a show of putting an arm over the other man's shoulder. Ed wondered why it wasn't bothering him; probably all the sex with Roy. "We've been 'involved' off and on for about…oh, what would it be now? Twenty years? Twenty-one years?" he looked to Remus, who put on a contemplative look.

"Since we were about sixteen," he murmured, touching his lower lip. "Yes, since we were sixteen. That would make it 22 years, I believe," he concluded, shrugging the other man's arm off of him. Sirius pulled a hurt face and Ed was again struck by his uncanny resemblance to a dog. This was getting creepy. "At least…I'm fairly sure it's been that long. I know it has on my end. Padfoot, how long were you in Munich? To us, at least, it was a little over a year…"

Sirius looked blank.

"I don't know. I didn't keep track," he said simply, shoulders dropping. "Being in Azkaban for years does that to a person." Ed didn't know how to interrupt _politely_, but he interrupted nonetheless.

"He was there for two months," the alchemist supplied. Remus raised an eyebrow. "You forget that I was there, too."

Remus nodded, and Sirius took the chance to change the topic.

"So…what's your relationship with Professor Mustang?" the man asked, and Edward stiffened. It must've been noticeable, too; the brunette whistled low through his teeth. "Ooh, so it's good. Well, we were honest with you, so I hope you'd be good enough to return the favor, Ed…"

"Professor--" Ed started to say before the teacher cut him off.

"The name's Sirius, Ed," he corrected. Ed glared.

"Well _Sirius_," he started, taking a deep breath. "If you must know, I don't think there's a way to categorize or classify it. We argue a lot – mostly over my phoenix, Lihst – and can't get through a day without insulting each other a couple dozen times. I'm lucky if he doesn't insult me in _passing_ when we see each other in the hallways."

"Sounds healthy enough," Sirius interrupted again, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Remus put a hand on his shoulder, handing him a plate of ribs.

"I don't think he was quite finished," the werewolf murmured, handing one to Edward as well. The teen accepted it, glaring at the brunette.

"Ah, sorry about that," Black shrugged, eyeing his ribs like a hungry wolf. Another dog analogy; this was getting way too creepy. Ed wanted to slap a muzzle on the man. "Please continue." Ed rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, I'll just be completely honest with you two, since you were honest with me. We have arguments, we have insults, and then, at the end of the day, we have sex," he stated plainly, proud that he wasn't blushing more than the two men were. Of course, their blushes could've been caused by shock or some synonym thereof, but he could ignore that. "We've had sex a few times; it's not something all that unusual where I come from. And it's not that weird – you guys do it, too." Remus swallowed hard before speaking again.

"True…and I can't say I'm altogether _too_ surprised…but it's different for us," he answered, voice sounding strangled. Sirius coughed a few times.

"We're actually _legal_, Edward," the dog-like-man managed, coughing again. "You're, uh…not. If you two are caught…the best-case scenario is that you get expelled and ding! Mustang gets slapped with a statutory rape charge." Remus nodded.

"Were you seventeen and out of school, it would be different," the man said, control back in his tones. "As it stands, though, you're sixteen and in it. And it just doesn't seem right…you're sixteen. He's thirty. That's an age difference of _fourteen_ _years_. Some of the students here haven't even _lived _that long. Half of them haven't!" Ed cocked his head, quickly concocting a bullshit answer.

"In Amestris, sixteen _is_ the legal age," he growled, lying through his teeth. He'd never _liked_ being dishonest, but when the occasion called for it, he could do so easily. "What about here?"

"It's seventeen, Jailbait," Sirius responded, and Edward was surprised at how serious he sounded. "Sorry, but you're not in Amestris anymore; this is Scotland." Ed's eyes narrowed, and he clenched his fists. He must've looked unstable, considering how Remus – a certified _werewolf_ – took a step back, a hand slipping into his pocket. "We have different laws here."

"And I'm not a Scottish citizen," Ed hissed, rightfully pissed; they were treating him like a child! "So I'd appreciate it if you'd retract the 'Jailbait' thing. And Remus, what did you mean by 'not too surprised'?"

Remus looked apprehensive, hand drawing out of his pocket. He wasn't holding a wand.

"You can fool all the senses but one, Ed; the nose never lies, especially a canine one," he murmured, approaching slowly. Ed contemplated barking at him – maybe it'd make him shut up. The most logical part of his mind shot the idea down immediately. Remus continued, blissfully unaware of what was going on in the blonde's head. "But you have no idea how bad this is. You're underage. You're a student. If it weren't enough that you're sleeping with a teacher, he's also you're direct superior in the military. There are so many risks – it's worse than you know."

Ed waited to see if Sirius was going to say anything, and then sighed.

"I do know how serious this is," he said, twirling a rib bone before tossing it at the wastebasket. He wasn't shocked when it moved to catch it. "In fact, I think it's worse than _you_ know. Roy's putting a _lot_ on the line over this. More than just his career, he's risking everything he's spent the past six or seven years working for."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, and Remus looked politely confused. Edward felt a fair bit of pride when he noticed that the blush on the brunette's face hadn't yet dissipated. The werewolf cleared his throat.

"What was he working for?" he inquired, cocking his head patiently. Behind his back, Sirius pulled a face, and Ed glared at him.

"He wants to be Amestris' _Fuhrer_ – our leader," he responded, leaning forward. "I don't know all the details, but during a conflict in Ishbal back about seven years ago, he was ordered to kill two civilian doctors. They had been treating casualties on both sides, so the State got angry. He wants to prevent atrocities like that from _ever_ happening again. He's trying to change everything. Obviously, it would be bad if he lost his position."

Remus seemed to understand, and even Sirius looked relatively pensive. Ed seized the looks as a victory and dug into his plate. For a few minutes, the room was silent, save for a few clatters and the scooting of an animated waste bin. Finally, when all present had eaten as much as they wanted, Sirius let out a contented groan and looked at Ed.

"So," he began, and the blonde prickled. "Exactly where is Mr. Fuhrer-wannabe right now?" Ed blinked.

"McGonagall is talking to him, I think."

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.**

Roy sat in McGonagall's office, eye wandering around. It was a plain, somewhat dark room; the only lights were from the fireplace in the corner and the candelabra on her desk. There was a chandelier high above the middle of the room, but it looked for all the world that it hadn't been lit since before he'd joined the military. A few cages sat around the room, unused, and Roy wondered exactly what they'd once held. A clue might've been on the mantle, from where a steely-eyed cat watched him. It seemed familiar.

He attempted to achieve a more comfortable position, failing miserably. His chair was incredibly stiff, and he couldn't come up with a single reason as to why. Lo, he was uncomfortable; not to mention hungry. He'd skipped lunch to get away with his and Ed's tryst, and it was now dinnertime. Years of military reporting had taken their toll.

Current status: bored; awaiting orders.

The man let out a sigh, finally finding a minutely comfortable position. This situation sucked, and if he had to wait much longer, McGonagall would know it.

"If this were the military," he murmured, amused by the slight echo his voice caused. "She'd be in trouble. Calling someone to your office and not being there…"

"I've been here the whole time," came the woman's hard voice, and Roy was stunned to see her standing aside the fireplace. Her hand was resting where the cat had been previously, said feline nowhere to be seen. He narrowed his eye, standing and barely holding back a salute.

"Precisely when did you materialize and from where?" he asked, unable to help the formality. He groaned inwardly at the look on her face; it was like she was taking pleasure in knowing she had one up on him. Insufferable wench.

"I've been here since before you arrived; I was on the mantle," she answered, the smug expression on her face angering Roy even further. She was so close to the fire…with a quick calculation, he discreetly activated the array on his ever-present glove, manipulating a tiny lick of flame into catching onto her robes. The older woman didn't seem to notice, and Roy dropped back into his unduly uncomfortable seat once more.

"I see," he murmured, best poker face on. "The cat; so, what did you need me for?"

The woman stepped away from the hearth; Roy held back a smirk upon noticing that the hem of her robes was smoldering. After a moment, she made her way back to her seat, completely oblivious.

"Mr. Elric's brother will be all right, then?" McGonagall asked, her voice even. When Roy nodded, she continued. "Good; moving on…"

She trailed off, her nose twitching. Roy was somewhat disappointed when she lifted the smoking end of her robe and doused the flame, glaring at him. He gave her a surprised and – he hoped – innocent look in response. She dropped the fabric again, waving away a tiny plume of smoke.

"As I was saying," she continued, giving him the 'I-know-you-did-it-but-I-can't-prove-it' look. "I have something _very_ serious to discuss with you, Brigadier General and – more importantly – _Professor_ Mustang. It's regarding Edward Elric."

Roy felt his hands twitch in his lap; she was going to bring _it_ up. In that case, diversion would be the best tactic.

"I'm sorry; Fullmetal is visiting with Black and Lupin tonight, so any talks with him will have to wait. That _does_ remind me, though," he pulled a confused face. "Why exactly is Lupin staying here if he's not a teacher?" McGonagall's lip thinned before she replied.

"Remus Lupin is Professor Black's only remaining family, and as such he is welcomed here. The same treatment is given to spouses of staff – on the rare occasion that a member of our staff marries," she explained, folding her hands in her own lap. "But, back on the original topic, we don't need Mr. Elric here for this. I need to ask you something."

The General nodded, trying not to look nervous.

"I'm going to ask it once," McGonagall murmured, eyes shooting daggers. "And I would advise against lying to me. Professor Mustang, did you sleep with Edward Elric?"

"By that, may I infer that you meant 'have sex with'?" he asked, suddenly all too calm about the situation. When she nodded, he found himself mirroring the motion. "Yes, I've had sex with him."

McGonagall was silent, but she didn't seem angry. It was more like she was irritated – irritated in the same way a parent would be after being corrected by her children. She sighed calmly, running a hand through her bangs and cupping her cheek. Her eyes closed for a moment, and Roy prepared himself for the reprimanding he was sure to receive.

"Why?" she asked, staring at him blankly. "I'm not going to scold you until I've heard the whole story. You're honest, so I won't dispute what you say. Tell me _why_ you would involve yourself sexually with someone fourteen years your junior."

After she said this – and only after – did Roy notice that her hands were shaking. She must've clasped them while she was speaking.

Minerva McGonagall deserved the truth, but hell if she'd get it.

"You may not like this," he began, looking steadfastly into her eyes. "But it's nothing altogether unbelievable. How much do you know about Amestrian law?" McGonagall glared at him.

"Not very much," she conceded, obviously biting some rude comment back. "But I know that there is a law on statutory rape. Most everyone knows that."

Roy nodded, carefully maintaining eye contact. Hughes had taught him – way back when he was involved in interrogations – that there were a few sure signs that someone was lying. A major one was a subtle drop in someone's gaze. If a person looked at your mouth while speaking to you, they were most likely lying. So, he had perfected body language and all other aspects in turn.

In short, he was a regimented and experienced liar.

"Edward," Roy began, consciously leaning back in his chair and sighing. "Has been through more than you can imagine, and he went through most of it willingly. He's focused and mature to an _extreme_. As a State Alchemist, he's well respected and very achieved. As a young man, however, he's especially difficult to describe," he closed his eye for a moment, acting like he was remembering something. "He's grown monumentally in the last two years."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue.

"I don't mean physically – he's more or less the same height as when I first met him. He's become an adult," he stopped himself abruptly and shook his head. "No, he's been an adult for longer than that. Ever since his mother died, he's had to be one. He's taken care of his brother for years."

The headmistress interrupted him, crossing her arms.

"This doesn't sound like an explanation, Professor Mustang," she growled. "If anything, it sounds like a justification."

Roy ignored her, running a hand through his hair.

"_Honestly_," he stressed. "I knew that I shouldn't have done anything to him beyond my duties as his superior. Our relationship _should_ have stayed professional. As you can tell, though, it didn't. He and I started to see each other, have an occasional lunch or dinner…things escalated from there." McGonagall seemed unimpressed.

"That still doesn't explain your actions," the woman deadpanned, and Roy could see her impatience. "Please get to the point."

"In Amestris, we've revised out laws concerning marriage," Roy said thoughtfully, voice light. He let out a small smile, playing up his lie. "To both of us, this is something of a convenience. A spouse is someone you trust and value; somebody you can honestly respect. They're more than a friend – they're a partner. To me, at least, it's a person you could be with forever and _never_ hate. Edward fits those qualities."

McGonagall blinked, and Roy noticed the dawning horror on her face. She went red, lips tightening and eyes narrowing.

"You don't mean to tell me," she whispered breathily, voice dangerously low. "That you and Mr. Elric are _married_?"

"No, I don't intend to," Roy echoed in negative, shaking his head as he did so. He hoped he could talk to Ed before she did. "I mean to tell you that we're engaged."

McGonagall sighed, and that was the one thing he hadn't expected her to do. She nodded, leaned back, and waited for him to say something. Roy knew what she needed to hear, but he wasn't sure how to put it in words. He pinched the bridge of his nose in a contemplative matter before sighing and diving into it.

"I realize that abstinence would have been the best course of action, but circumstances prevented it," Roy allowed himself a nervous hand-through-the-hair motion. It was necessary for the next part to seem realistic. "It sounds like an excuse, but it was something we both _needed_. He needed comfort and I needed confirmation. The only way we could _have_ both was through sex. We are men, after all." McGonagall seemed confused.

"Confirmation of what?" she asked. Roy touched his eye patch.

"Physically, I've changed a lot since he's been gone," he admitted, letting the sentence hang for a long moment. "I wasn't entirely sure if he saw me in the same light anymore. He _said_ he would still marry me – and I _do_ believe him – but I still needed to know if this-" he gestured to his patch again. "-would make things any different between us. Also, _he's_ been changed substantially. Munich was hard on him. I worried that these things would affect our marriage. It seems my worries were moot."

"Indeed," McGonagall said firmly. "It's Hogwarts' policy to dismiss any teacher sexually involved with a student, marriages barred. In that light, as you two are yet unmarried, you may expect to be dismissed within the week."

Roy nodded slowly, trying to make sense of his emotions. As soon as he deemed himself ready to speak, _she_ did.

"But I've decided not to let you go," she admitted, clasping her hands tightly enough to make her knuckles go white. "Nor do I intend to separate you and Mr. Elric. I will inform the staff of the situation, but I intend to change one detail. Unless you have any objections, I would like to tell them that you and Mr. Elric are _already_ married. Is that clear?"

Roy opened his mouth to speak, but quickly realized that he hadn't thought of a response quite yet. He swallowed to buy time, and then smiled at her.

"Thank you," he murmured, an old Xingian custom of bowing coming out almost unconsciously. "But could you hold off on telling the staff until later? I'd like to see if Edward has any reasons why he wouldn't want anyone to think that we're already wed."

McGonagall nodded, and Roy stood up. She stared pointedly at him, and he waited.

"I'll have a house-elf bring something for you to eat," she stated, waving him off. "And, just in case anyone is out by your room at night, you might want to cast a silencing spell on your quarters. It's _silencias totalus_."

Roy nodded, gathering his overcoat from the chair. He pulled it on while he walked, and then opened the door. To his surprise, a _very_ familiar face was just approaching. Flanked on either side of him were Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Well aware that McGonagall would likely observe their interactions and not too insecure about his acting skills, Roy let out a small smile and stepped forward.

"Hey, Ed," he ruffled Ed's hair and covered his right foot with his own. When the boy gave him a questioning look, he pressed down on the flesh appendage. Apparently, the blonde got the hint. "Have a nice visit? Did you eat yet?"

"Yes to both," the teen answered. "What did she want to talk to you about?" Roy shifted slightly.

"A few things. I need to speak with you about it later, if possible," he murmured, turning Edward around and resting a hand on his shoulder. "We should head back to the room before curfew."

After a rushed goodbye and a knowing glance from Lupin, Roy led Edward toward the room. The blonde seemed nervous, but silent nonetheless. They passed a few students in the hall (and narrowly avoided an invitation to one of Slughorn's parties) and made it to their room in record time. Once inside, Ed confronted him.

"McGonagall knows, doesn't she?" Ed asked, face deadpan. Roy nodded.

"In order to keep us here, I had to tell a pretty serious lie," he said, crossing the room and sitting on his bed. Ed's hadn't been used since before they'd left, and he was fairly certain that it wouldn't be used much in the future. "I told her that we're engaged. To put the staff at ease, though, she wants to tell them that we're _married_."

Ed's mouth flapped a few times before he regained control of his jaw. When he did, an oddly amused expression graced his features.

"You know," he began slowly. "I just got through telling Remus and Sirius just about the same thing. After lecturing me about how wrong it was for me to sleep with you, they got around to asking me why. I said that we were planning to get married around Easter, and that we've been together for almost two years."

Roy blinked, watching as Ed grinned. He felt himself starting to laugh, and within moments, he was chuckling madly. Ed wasn't much better off – it was all he could do to hold himself up. After both had calmed down, Ed strode over to the bed.

"I'm going to be kicked out of this school in a month. Damned if I'm not, really."

Roy nodded in agreement as Edward sat next to him, frowning at his left hand. The older man arched a brow in question. His subordinate chuckled.

"Gonna have to get a ring, aren't I?" the blonde muttered around a smirk, clenching and unclenching his fist a few times. "We should be happy I wear gloves, huh? So, when are you going to give me my engagement ring?"

"When I get a hold of some scrap gold or something - I'm not _buying_ something I can make," Roy answered. Ed stuck out his tongue, to which Roy raised an eyebrow. "Tongues can do much more interesting things than just sticking out like that. Should I start listing them off?"

Ed shuddered, glaring, and then sat on the bed next to Roy. He yanked his shirt off and began working on his pants. The older man stood up and turned his back to him, understanding that his young subordinate did _not_ mean to have sex with him again today. He strode to the bathroom, vaguely listening to the sound of a zipper, leather, and the general sounds of disrobing.

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.**

Morning came all too quickly, and upon waking up, Ed found Lihst apparently none-too-happy with him. She perched on his chest - seemingly having developed a fixation with it - and chirped at him, tightening her talons. He hissed in pain.

"Lihst...I think that's the avian - OW! the avian equivalent of biting the hand that feeds you, you _vulturous_ little - OW! I get it! I'm up, I'm up! Can you just - AAARGH!! Dammit, Lihst! That's - _Lihst!!_" Ed's voice was steadily crescendoing and Lihst was _glaring_ at him. GLARING. "Lihst! That's _my_ blood you're - DAMN IT, LIHST!! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?!"

"_Shut up!!_" Roy's muffled voice roared; Ed ignored it, reaching up to finally wrench the winged lizard-like beast off his chest. she chirped again, blinking.

"Lihst, you heal this _NOW_," he growled, holding her up. Her eyes traveled over his chest, taking in the angry gashes littering it and leaking red all over. She turned up her beak.

Ed's grip loosened as he took a moment to think to himself, rather perversely, that his new pet might be more insane than he first suspected.

"That goddamned fènghuáng bothering you?" Roy groaned, and Ed turned just in time to see him pick his face out of his pillow, getting the distinct impression of a panda. he raised an eyebrow when he noticed the decisively bloody cut running down his cheek. "That _thing_ has got to be the reincarnation of the Fuhrer. He liked blood, too. Let's ring her neck? Burn her? Transmute her into a rubber duck?"

"Let's not," the teen answered shortly, turning his attention to his bird again. "And you're not being coherent. You know we couldn't transmute her into a rubber _anything_. Transfigure her, maybe, but not transmute. And what did you call her? _Fing-hwang_?"

The bed shifted and Lihst let out a high-pitched shriek. Roy lay on his back, running a hand through his hair.

"Fènghuáng," the general murmured. "Ssslipped into Mandarin. It means phoenix. Didn't mean to. Tired. The evil chicken tried to kill me. It's morning, isn't it? Dammit. Make it heal my face."

Roy was babbling and incoherent, and Ed couldn't even begin to describe how amusing it was, how the hoarse and garbled voice of his superior made him all warm and fuzzy and how he didn't even know why he'd used a phrase he detested to describe feelings of _anything_, let alone entertainment. He enjoyed the difference.

"She won't even heal me, and she _likes_ me," Ed replied, ignoring his superior for a moment. "So you can just go teach class all disfigured-like."

Lihst chirped in agreement, and Roy's hand came up to smack at her. She nipped his finger in response, looking calmer than she had in ages.

"Ow," he grunted, bringing his finger to his lips briefly in a way that Ed interpreted as far too sexual in nature, especially for so early in the morning, then narrowed his already narrowed eyes even further, if possible, at the phoenix. "Móguî. I don't like you, either. I should burn you. Cook you. I betcha'd be tasty. But...I dunno. Ed, would you get mad if I did? Never mind. Why're you awake? And why's the freaking fènghuáng so bitchy? I don't know, but I need coffee and food. Maybe stitches. Coffee."

Ed attempted to decipher the older man's immiscibility, still unduly amused.

"You have to get it yourself," the teen relaxed into the mattress and sighed. "What's wrong with you, anyway?"

Roy was undeniably, irrefutably incoherent. Ed had never seen him like this.

"Low blood pressure," was the reply, but it might've been anything else that sounded like 'lefrefresha' through sweaty palms in the morning. The man propped his leg up, effectively stealing all the _warm_ covers from Edward. "Don't get it. The doctor says people with low blood - no, no. Wait a sec. People who cry a lot have low blood pressure as a result. Or was it the other way around? Something about them being linked. But I don't remember. I don't cry. Not much. It doesn't make sense. But I have a hard time waking up and stuff. What do you think?"

"I don't think I understood a word you said," Ed admitted, setting Lihst aside, grudge not forgotten (but temporarily ignored), and turned his full attention to the military man. "But I've heard that drinking can lead to high blood pressure. Are you sober?"

"Sadly, yes," Roy groaned. "That's just what I need: another reason to become an alcoholic. I'm doomed. If I drink, I kill my liver and die. If I don't, I have no life. _Doooooomed_."

And, Ed decided, this was probably enough.

"C'mon, time to get up," Ed muttered, sitting up and pulling the older man's arm. "You _do_ need coffee. You're not making sense."

Roy didn't fight back, but the teen got the impression that he wasn't helping him, either. He was as limp as a dead snake. After a valiant effort and more than a few well-decorated words, Ed triumphed forcing the man to his feet.

"Where's the coffee?" Roy asked, swaying dangerously. Ed sighed.

"Undoubtedly in the Great Hall, along with the teachers we'll be lying to about our marriage, _honey_," he answered, leaning in to pick up his bedmate's hand. The younger alchemist ran his fingertips over the ring finger. "Are you ready to discuss the completely untrue validation to out illegal sex life?" the man's hand left his.

"_After_ coffee," the man stumbled toward the dresser, bleeding profusely down his cheek. "Treat your chest, okay?"

Ed was suddenly reintroduced to the bleeding talon-marks on his chest. He glared at the bird at fault, which was ferverently plucking down from her body and chirping loudly. Within seconds, he had her in his hands.

"Lihst, are you going to do something about this?" he asked. She simply hopped out of his hands and back onto his shoulder, perching precariously. He gave up, trying to get his mind off of her by thinking of better things, like radios and puppies and things that didn't usually tear six-inch gashes into people's flesh. He somehow managed to dress both his wounds and himself around the phoenix occupying his upper half, and then turned to Roy. The man was yawning into his glove. After a moment, Ed stepped to his side, gripping his sleeve.

"You're going to fall down the stairs and die if you go out on your own. Wait a sec and I'll grab my stuff. Then, after that, we'll go to breakfast," he commanded, hurrying to his desk. He began stuffing books into his bag.

"We're on the main floor," Roy stated plainly. Ed rolled his eyes.

"You're not fully conscious," the teen retorted. "So you need help."

Given that the sardonic alchemist hadn't given him some pathetically condescending reply for his statement, Ed determined that he was all but sleepwalking. Or he was listening to reason. The former seemed more likely.

A knock on the door snapped the blonde out of his thoughts. He blinked, slinging the bag over his unoccupied shoulder and setting Lihst back on the bed. After nodding to Roy, Ed spelled the candles off and pulled the door open.

"Welcome back, Edward!"

Neville's grin was wide enough to split his face, and his protruding ears seemed perkier than before. Nothing, the Amestrian teen decided just then, should be allowed to be perky. But Neville managed to look pathetically normal nonetheless. It was enough to make Ed give him a tired, confused smile of his own.

"Neville, you were there, too. Why're you so excited?" he asked, pulling his gloves on as he spoke. He noticed his friend's eyes flicker to his metal hand, but his expression wasn't confused or upset. If anything, it seemed embarrassed. Ed chose to ignore it. "Did McGonagall do something?"

Neville shrugged, lips twitching. Before either Gryffindors could say anything, Roy collided dully with Ed's shoulder and the doorframe, wavering and swaying. Ed could've laughed at Neville's expression. _Now _he seemed confused.

"Ed?" Roy mewled pathetically, trying to fix a patch over the cut Lihst had given him. "Is it time for coffee yet?"

"Yeah," Ed gripped his sleeve and nodded to Neville, who cleared his throat.

"Does he need you to do that?" the Gryffindor asked. When Ed nodded, he brought a hand to his mouth. "I guess he's not much of a morning person. Or maybe it's just...going around or something like that."

"Howzat?" Ed asked patiently as he looped his arm through his superior's absentmindedly while tugging him in the right direction. Roy protested slightly, but Ed continued on, using his free hand to grip the man's wrist. Neville glanced at him uncomfortably, but instead explained himself.

"Well...a couple of guys in the dorm are acting like that," he murmured as the Hall doors came into view. "Like...well, Seamus, Ron, and Harry. But then, Ron's always been that way, but Harry and Seamus have been _so tired_ in the mornings."

Neville cut himself off as he opened the door. Ed drew a blank for a moment, but Roy, seemingly a _tiny_ bit more alert now, and answered.

"Puberty. 'S just puberty," he slurred. Ed noticed a horribly distinctive smell on his breath and scoffed angrily.

"You got drunk yesterday, didn't you?" The teenager accused quietly, releasing the man's arm and glaring at him. "Damn it - I don't care if you drink, but if you go too far, I have to move back in with the _bastards_ in the dorm - no offense, Neville - and I don't _ever_ wanna do that. And if it was so hard to see Al--"

"It wasn't about Al," Roy groaned, staggering into the room. ed raised an eyebrow as he and Neville made their way to the Gryffindor table. His superior tossed a look over his shoulder. "Hawkeye's coming to visit in November."

Ed nodded, still not clear on why Roy would have to get drunk at the mere _thought_ of Lt. Hawkeye visiting. Neville pulled a seat out for him and, as he sat, reached for some toast.

"Who's Hawkeye?" Neville asked, pouring some pumpkin juice.

"Mustang's...she used to work for him. Sort of like a secretary," Ed explained, gesturing along with his words. "She was _scary_. Always made sure that he did all his work, the lazy asshole."

Neville snorted into his goblet, earning looks from the other students. They seemed to lose interest quickly, looking back to their meals. Ed sighed heavily, tearing a hunk of bread from a loaf and chomping on it with irritance.

"Dear _God_, I'm not used to being ignored," the teen growled around the masticated food. Neville didn't say anything, so he plowed on. "Seriously - I'm a _transfer_ student. I'm a foreigner. What do I have to do to get people to show a _shred_ of interest in me?" He looked at his friend's face, surprised to see him shaking his head.

"People are really interested," Neville contradicted, gently and quietly. Ed couldn't figure out _how_ he was a Gryffindor, being such a stark opposite to the rest of his housemates. "It's just that...everyone's _so_ nervous. There's loads of bad stuff going on, and after the school was _attacked _last year, nobody's been so keen to take chances. Add in the rumors--"

"What rumors?!" Ed interrupted, dropping his silverware. He hadn't heard a _thing_.

"Well..." Neville began hesitantly, but dove right in, speaking quietly and in a high-pitched voice. "People are saying that you're a Death Eater or a spy for You-Know-Who or the ministry or a murderer or a criminal...or that you and Professor Mustang are...well, you know...gay and...sleeping together."

Ed blinked, not sure how to react. He didn't even understand half the terms. And his left arm was suddenly _freezing_.

"FWRAGHK!!" Ed gasped, repossessing his arm. A quick glance revealed a translucent man who looked just as shocked as he was. "Oh...Nick? Sorry, I didn't see you. What's up?"

The ghost smiled at him hesitantly.

"Well, that's all right. I'm used to it. And nothing's really new. So, how're you, Edward?" he asked, crossing his arms. Ed, having just taken a bite of bread bigger than the inside of his mouth, attempted to answer.

"Wrghf urmn shwa gomff--" he swallowed loudly, looking apologetically at the ghost. "Sorry. I'm doing pretty well, I guess."

"You're a Weasley in the making," Nick scoffed cheerfully. "I've been listening to Ronald speak through mouthfuls for seven years now. It would seem that it's a trait you share."

"It's not genetic, believe me," a redheaded girl interrupted from across from him. Ed looked at her, lips tightening. She met his eyes and smiled. "No offense; it's just, I've spent my whole life trying to block out Ron's _horrible_ manners. You're so alike in that regard - it's like I've known you for quite some time now."

Ed popped his bottom lip, temporarily distracted by the flood of owls coming down to the tables. Four seats down, a white owl landed in front of Potter, instantly attracting the attention of six or seven younger students. He assumed he looked surprised, since Ginny leaned over the table, crossing her arms under her rather expansive breasts, and flicked her long hair out of her face.

"I really do need to thank you, though," she stated quietly, voice barely audible over the excited chatter surrounding Potter and his mail. Ed cocked his head in confusion, and she chuckled, eyes lighting on a candle. "Ron told me about it just after we got back home from school last year...and I didn't know what to do. I don't know all the details about it, but he told me that he, Harry, and Hermione weren't planning on coming back this year. If you hadn't gone and...well, saved Sirius like that...if you hadn't done that and made him come here again over the summer, he wouldn't be here right now. He told me that he realized he couldn't leave. Thank you so much for bringing him back."

Ed shrugged, brows knitting. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Potter watching him.

"But I don't get it," Ed said, making sure he was just loud enough for the teenager to hear him. "Why would Potter choose to stay here if he'd decided beforehand that he was going to leave?"

Potter stood up, glaring at him. Ed simply looked back at him and tapped his fork against his plate. The dark-haired teen stood still for a moment, the bushy-haired Hermione next to him gripping his sleeve at the elbow. He looked down again, startled, and his hand traveled to his forehead. Immediately, he clapped her shoulder, leaned in next to her, and whispered something in her ear. She nodded, standing up with him.

"I'll see you at lunch, Ginny," Potter murmured, waving at her. She nodded back, waving. Ed pursed his lips.

"You seem to know him well," The blonde deadpanned. "You two, uh...?" She shook her head.

"For a couple of days, I suppose," she confessed, running a hand through her hair. Everything she did made Ed wonder. Ginny Weasley was an enigma and a half. "But we didn't stay together for very long. I thought he liked me...and he said he did. But he just broke up with me a little while after we got together. I didn't know...that's the weird thing. After, he kept apologizing. I just don't get it."

"What's not to get?" Ed asked, messing with his left glove. Ginny looked at him strangely, and he quickly removed his hand. "It's not that weird, right?"

"The break up I understand," she arched a thin and clearly plucked brow; the blonde had never seen such plucked brows. They held him in awe. "It's how he acted afterwards that confuses me. It's like he was...I took it for grief, since Professor Dumbledore just died right about then...but it was like nothing I'd ever seen from him. He looked like he was going to cry _all _the time. I saw him in the library once a few days after we broke up - he was just staring off into space. It was scary."

"I see," Ed murmured, reaching for his bag. Neville chipped in at last.

"Oh, yeah; he was really out of it at the end of last year. I mean, he saw Professor Dumbledore _die_ right before his eyes. I'd probably have had a nervous breakdown right away," the other boy sighed. "Harry shook like mad at night. It was like he was freezing or scared or something. It freaked me out."

"What's going on?" Roy, Ed had noticed _many, many_ months ago, has an uncanny ability to show up out of nowhere and have all the answers. There was never anything that freaked him out more. "It sounds like you're interrogating these two."

"They're talking, I'm listening, and we're all happily planning to skip our first class, at this rate," Ed muttered, standing up. "Neville, you coming or what?"

"Before that," Roy interrupted, laying a hand on Ed's shoulder. "Professor McGonagall wants you to go see Madam Pomfrey. She said it was important - and besides, you can get your chest treated. Your pet is _evil_."

"Whatever," Ed managed, going slightly red. He couldn't see it, of course, but he felt it getting hotter and hotter. It was embarrassing.

And, regardless, he knew he'd be taking a trip to the greenhouses soon.

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.**

"I'm back," Ed called, waiting for a response he knew he wasn't getting. After hearing a shuffle from behind the plants, the blonde, accepting that it was likely the most he was _ever_ going to get out of the older man, clapped his hands together and created a crawl-hole. He made a mental note to create a more permanent one later. "No infections or anything, right?"

The first thing to meet his eyes was a scowl; Ed raised an eyebrow.

"Unfortunately," Severus finally answered. The younger man gave him a hesitant grin; his voice was awfully soft. "And, thanks to your irrational philanthropy, I remain well-fed in spite of your much-invited absence."

"Clearly, you're doing fine," Ed murmured, amused by the older man's extensive vocabulary. "I noticed you didn't ask where I was. Oh, you did? Well, I was visiting my brother in the hospital. How's he doing? Fine, thank--"

"I don't particularly _care_," the brunette stressed. "And you'd be better off redirecting your benevolence toward a more _enthusiastic_ participant. Regardless of your initial intentions, if the person to whom you are _doing _these things is unwilling, then you are committing the equivalent of emotional rape."

A part of Ed's mind screamed that this man wasn't _worth_ any effort, but the more compassionate parts of it took precedence. Instead of responding with words, the teen moved forward and lifted the man's shirt. The bandages around his shoulder were stained brown and red, with a graying and translucent patch near the edges, where the wrapping was thinnest.

"You're gonna have to eat better," he grimaced, the fingers of his left hand rubbing the material and finding it soaking wet. His mandatory year of medical training was coming back to him. At once, he almost thanked the Amestrian Military for not exempting him from it. "You're sweating. A lot. It's going to mix with the bacteria on and in your body and'll result in an infection if you don't start improving your diet. I _really_ don't want to see any more gangrene."

Severus glared at him.

"Obviously, you've undergone _basic_ medical training. But you're missing something crucial," he growled. "Why do you think I'm _sweating_ in the first place?"

"Fuck," Ed swore, remembering how cold the weather was around the area. He laid his flesh hand against the man's neck, ignoring the look of surprise he received. "High fever, thready pulse, sweat…you lied. You _already_ have an infection. Where?"

Severus didn't answer, and – slightly panicked – Ed began running his left hand down the skin of the older man's back. It made sense now – his speech was soft because of the fever. It was so obvious. When he didn't find anything on his back, the teen used the same hand to squeeze the man's thighs and calves. Finally, just as he was about to give up, the injury became apparent. The man's ankle was purple and swollen. Swallowing hard, Edward looked up at him.

"You can't stay out here anymore," he murmured, hand stilling about six centimeters from the purple flesh. Black eyes met gold in an indignant contest of will. "I know _you_ don't care if you die, but I'm taking care of you. If you die, everything I've done is worthless."

"It already is," Severus retaliated, a little fire back in his voice. "I'll ruin you."

"Whatever," Ed hissed, giving the man's ankle a hard squeeze. "I'll just go back to my old job if I'm caught."

"So, the military employs capital offenders?" the ex-professor asked sarcastically. Ed nodded.

"Don't even get into that. You'd be amazed with who they let in."

"You _do_ realize that you're sheltering a wanted criminal, Elric, and that in doing so are committing a crime worthy of a Dementor's Kiss, correct?" he was serious now, but Ed ignored him. Instead, he tugged the man's shirt down, his cloak over his body, and fastened it. He tried to pull him upright, but failed with his first attempt. Severus scoffed. "Apparently, physical strength is not an Amestrian Officer's strongest point."

"I've been _elsewhere_ lately," the blonde replied dryly, hooking the man's remaining arm over his shoulder and heaving him to his feet. The man was nearly as light as Sirius had been. Apparently, he was developing a habit of being a crutch for severely malnourished men.

"I can't stay in the dorms," Severus rasped, struggling weakly. Ed rolled his eyes.

"I can't, either. As it is, I'm sharing a room with a professor – privately. Having you there wouldn't be much of a problem," the blonde laid out for him. Severus seemed to accept this, as he ceased his struggle and instead became something of a dead weight. He only resisted again when the door finally came into view.

"What if you're seen?" the man attempted to dig his heels into the ground. His legs collapsed under him, either from exhaustion or pain, and he cast Ed a withering glare. Ed sighed, completely aware that the older man was not _concerned_ for him.

"If that happens, you'll have even _less_ to worry about, you masochist," the teen answered with a brutal heave. "Besides, it's not like anyone's going to be out. It's almost midnight."

Even as he said this, though, his actions contradicted his words. He pulled the hood on Severus' cloak more securely over his head and wrapped an arm around his waist. Fully supporting his bulk, Ed began his trek up toward the castle, making haste in his trip.

And it was quiet enough to think.

Logically, Ed couldn't figure out why he was helping Severus. The older man had hit the nail right on the head when he'd called Edward a philanthropist earlier. The fact that he was _aiding_ a wanted criminal fit into that, too. A year ago, he likely would've ignored him, instead leaving him to his own devices.

But he had undoubtedly changed. Of _course_ he had changed.

He stumbled dangerously about ten meters from the entrance to the castle, and Severus let out a small sound that could've been a groan. After re-steadying himself, he continued his walk.

Severus' breathing was becoming more labored by the minute. Edward cast a worried glance at his temporarily conjoined twin, taking in the grimace and abnormally pale skin. He had no doubt that the older man was holding back more than a few highly decorated phrases. What worried him most, however, was that he wasn't fighting anymore.

"We're almost there," Ed reassured him, unsure why he was doing so. They reached the door seconds later, only to have Edward fumble with it while attempting to open it. Once he'd managed, he pulled both into the room, shutting the door behind him. Roy lifted a hand in greeting from the desk, not bothering to look up as he spoke.

"I'd have helped you with the door, but I'm a little busy. My substitute gave some ridiculous pop quiz on the importance of matches," the teen's superior officer explained blandly. Ed nodded toward his back, wondering how he'd explain Severus to his fuck-buddy. Shifting the injured man again and vowing to explain it to Roy _later_, he began toward the bathroom. "Oh, and I don't know _who_ you have with you, but he smells like Hell. Get him in the bath, patch him up, and give him some of my clothes. We'll talk when you're done."

Ed sighed heavily, well aware of what Roy meant. Severus weakly arched a brow.

"Remus was right. 'You can fool all the senses but one: the nose never lies'," the teenager explained, shutting the door to the bathroom behind him and leading the older man to the marble bathtub. "You _reek_ of blood and the smell from the gangrene is soaked into your clothes. Since you can't _possibly_ do it yourself, I'm going to give you a bath."

Severus tensed slightly and lifted his head to stare at the blonde. Their eyes locked for a moment, and then the older man nodded, as if in understanding.

"Very well," he conceded, letting his shoulders slump. Ed immediately unfastened the robe and pulled it back, tossing it to the side and turning the water on. He made sure the temperature was decent before plugging the drain and returning to his task. "I admit that it would be…difficult, to say the least."

Ed nodded in agreement, undoing the buttons on Severus' shirt. They were small. The teen realized, about halfway down the shirt, that it had obviously been tailored and that the fabric itself would've been _extremely_ expensive. Everything about his wardrobe, no matter how tattered it had become, screamed that he had once been wealthy. It brought Ed to wonder _how_ he had gotten into this condition.

Upon reaching the final button, he slipped the garment off the man's body and flung it in the general direction of the robe. When he went to start on the pants, a hand touched his left. He looked up.

"You're not asking me anything," Severus observed in a curious and grateful voice. Ed could understand – he _had_ to know that the blonde could tell about his past lifestyle and, as was apparent by the man's built chest, the physical attributes that wouldn't have gone with it. "That's unexpected."

Ed shrugged, electing to not answer him. Instead, he returned to the slacks, attacking the button. It popped off before he could even _try_ to get it through the hole. Raising an eyebrow and well aware that he might be seconds from viewing another man's _parts_, he took a deep breath and tugged the pants down over his hips.

And the underwear.

He was careful not to look as he turned Severus and slid him into the tub. The water was high enough, so he reached around the man and turned it off. It was only then that he realized the extent of the damage done to the body before him. The man's torso was littered with scars and still-open sores. His lithe form was battered beyond belief. Ed could scarcely continue his task, eyes struggling to remain locked with Severus'. As he rolled up his sleeves and reached for the soap, the man's voice permeated the room.

"The man you're living with is quite…_observant_," he murmured. Ed nodded, slowly soaping a washcloth and slipping the bandage off Severus' shoulder. "But that's because he's an officer, right?"

"Yeah," Ed confirmed. He wet the man's upper half and began to scrub his chest. "My superior officer, actually – his name's Roy Mustang. He's a brigadier general and a State Alchemist. Actually, I think you've heard of him – you mentioned him before. He's the Flame Alchemist."

Severus' brows furred – or contracted in pain – when Ed ran the cloth over an open sore on his shoulder. He let out a weak chuckle.

"Anticlimactic, isn't it? The hero of the Ishbal Rebellion is teaching about matches," Severus derided. Seeing the humor in his words, Ed laughed and rinsed the cloth.

They didn't speak for the rest of the bath, with Ed gently scrubbing off weeks – if not _months_ – of dirt, blood, and who knows what from the brunette's body. The fact that the skin beneath his hands was so pale shocked him; had Severus _ever_ been out in the sun? The water was a clear brown by the time he got to his hair. Making an executive decision, he then drained the water and refilled the tub.

The silkiness of the man's hair shocked him. Ed's hesitant hands ran through it like it was water itself, running into the occasional clump of what he suspected – but didn't _dare_ assume – was blood. It took three shampooings before he could get through the whole mess of black without resistance. Through the whole ordeal, though, Severus had kept his eyes closed, as if enjoying it.

Well, Ed thought, that was just _dandy_.

After finally conditioning his hair, the blonde again drained the bath, hoisted Severus to his feet, and dried him roughly. He yanked Roy's robe off the door and set in on the counter. He would have to bandage the older man first, and that was no easy task.

He prepared himself as he reached for the gauze.

"_**HEY, LOOK! IT'S A BREAK! GO AHEAD AND TAKE THAT POTTY TIME!"**_

In a word, the situation was _peculiar_.

Roy scratched his way through the stack of tests, armed with a new quill FILLED with red ink. He finally understood why teachers enjoyed the color so much – it was violent and channeled frustration well. It said "GOD DAMN IT, ARE YOU AN INCOMPETENT _IMBECILE?!?_" in not so many words. And it held his attention.

But he should have been _seriously_ concerned about the person Edward had brought in with him. He hadn't bothered to turn around to look, having been too focused on someone's attempt at explaining that matches should be cleaned with soap and water a few hours before use, but he _had _recognized the scent almost immediately.

Necrosis.

Phage Dena.

Gangrene.

The words swirled around his head the moment they became clear. He knew the scent – it was one he'd learned in Ishbal, one he'd smelled when walking the streets. It was something he had never learned to ignore like the rest of his brigade or rebel troops or the terrified children who burst into tears at the very _sight_ of him.

It was death.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind as he went on to the next paper. _This_ girl knew her stuff. She didn't get homework in on time very often, but she _obviously_ understood the concept. He switched to black ink to mark his grade book and scratched the score down.

Ginny Weasley – 100.

She was the only one, though. The second highest score was a Ravenclaw boy's. He once again focused on the work in front of him and lost track of time.

And then the door opened.

Roy picked up his head and turned it just in time to see Edward seat a man easily a foot taller than him, one hand catching the towel over his head as it attempted to flutter to the ground. He was dressed in _his_ robe, as requested, and slumped, as if forcefully resigned to allowing the teen to care for him.

Ed probably wore him down, Roy surmised with an amused smirk.

The alchemist surveyed the man. His ankle was swollen and purple, but not…dying. It was just an infected break. He stepped closer, raising an eyebrow, and then stopped dead in his tracks. The robe's left sleeve was empty.

Oh. That explained it.

"Have you handled the necrosis?" Roy asked. Ed took a moment, as if he was unfamiliar with the term, but then let out a soft "Oh" of comprehension.

"Gangrene?" he asked. Roy nodded, propping a hand on his hip. "Yeah. It was pretty bad. I had to take off everything _left_ of his arm to save him. Can you do something for his ankle? You have more experience."

Roy shrugged, not entirely sure. All he'd ever done was heat the instruments Marcoh had used to dig out bullets or hack off rotting flesh. Nevertheless, he kneeled before the anonymous man, quill in hand, and thought for a moment.

"This might hurt," Roy murmured, pressing it to the man's flesh. He worked quickly and efficiently, stopping only when a familiar voice shrieked at him.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?!" Ed dropped next to him, eyes as wide as platters as he took in the array. "You're planning to _kill_ his ankle?! Seriously - you think inducing _gangrene_ is going to _help_ him?!"

"That's not what I'm doing," Roy explained, beginning a second array and continuing - though without his usual wit - to clarify what he _was_ doing. "I'm cutting the blood flow during the transmutation. I'll kill the infection for the most part, and then drain it out in liquid form the dead...stuff. When that's done, I'll mend the break, resume blood flow, and give him a healing potion." Ed raised an eyebrow as Roy put the finishing touches on his third array.

"Right...so, how you gonna _get_ a healing potion?" the teen asked, standing again. Roy cracked his knuckles.

"I stole some from Madam Pomfrey when I went to get my face treated," he revealed, watching a look of shock and not-so-well-concealed admiration flicker across his subordinate's face. "And she told me to ask you to go see her - something about Al's kidney or liver or something. An organ of some sort. Anyway, stand back. I'm activating this."

With the declaration, Roy pressed his hands to the arrays, mind going blank in the familiar action - for a moment. And then, out of nowhere, Ed's voice rang back in his head, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

_People who die in the other world...their lives are what fuel our transmutations._

He tried to block it out as he continued his work, but it was _there_. It coursed through him, and for the first time, he was aware of the overwhelming strength under his control. Whether he liked it or not, he had to acknowledge it.

The transmutation was over in seconds. While Ed fretted about, examining the smudged arrays and whatnot, Roy simply sat, trying to regain his composure. When he nearly had it back, Ed spoke again and destroyed it.

"Severus, can you move your foot?" he asked, and Roy felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Severus Snape. The dead criminal, right?" he asked warily; Ed's shoulders stiffened in response. Roy sighed heavily at the physical confirmation Edward had so graciously awarded him. "I suppose the spare bed'll be put to use after all," the general sighed in resignation. "Although we, Edward, will plead that we knew nothing of his identity."

If anything, the shock on Edward's face was worth the concession. The teen's mouth had been opened when he turned - no doubt he was about to defend his decision - and now remained that way. Roy would've told him to shut it, but he was too busy yanking the towel off the man's head. The man's eyebrows were level with his hairline.

"You two are madmen," Snape shook his head, his staticky hair going every which way. "Absolute madmen."

"An old adage, _Professor_, says that it _takes one to know one_," Roy retaliated, checking the bandaging. After confirming that yes, Edward had indeed proven his worth and properly treated the wound, the general combed his fingers through the ex-professor's hair until the mess behaved for him.

"It's past one a.m., Severus. You should get some sleep," Ed murmured, handing his new roommate a pair of Roy's pajama bottoms. "You're putting those on yourself."

"That's cold, Edward," Roy teased half-heartedly. Maybe the time was getting to him, too. "Although I'd expect the _limbless_ alchemist to know best."

All of a sudden, something was flying toward his head. Roy thought maybe Peeves had snuck in again, like he had the day after Ed first went to the Gryffindor dorms, but then he realized that the object was white and red and had feathers coming out of it. His mind screamed that it was a chicken and his eyes said it was a thing and his instinct just said SNAP YOUR FINGERS AND BLOW IT UP! And so, not being one to ignore what instinct told him to do, he did just that.

Except that he wasn't wearing gloves. He had just barely remembered this when a POOFing noise met his ears and his nose felt plugged up. The _thing_ fell to his lap just in time for him to stare at it dumbly and reflect on his chronic need for sleep.

It was a pillow.

By this point, Snape had somehow pulled the pants on and was attempting to stretch out of the robe. He muttered just loudly enough to be heard.

"Dear God, I hate Albus," he grit his teeth. "To what further degradations am I to descend?"

"Severus, watch it," Ed warned. The ragged man gave a hollow grimace in response. Even Roy could admit that he knew better than to push it with a sleep-deprived Fullmetal Alchemist. "Or you sleep in the fireplace."

"I've had more _interesting_ sleeping quarters threatened by Gryffindors before," Snape murmured, tugging at the blankets. "But I lament in admitting that your threat is sufficient. So long as I'm not exposed to your nightly activities, I have a _chance_ at escaping with some sanity or dignity. Good night."

After exchanging more nightly farewells, the other two slipped into bed, a certain black-haired officer resigned to a night of insomnia.

"_**HEY, LOOK! IT'S A BREAK! GO AHEAD AND TAKE THAT POTTY TIME!"**_

Well, you've squandered an indeterminate amount of minutes reading this installment of _Grindewald_ - hope you liked it! As it stands, this is actually a combination of about three separate chapters, so the fic's getting progressively shorter...while the chapters are getting too long for it to be allowed. I really should've split this, but who cares? I'm too busy anyway.

Please review - and enter my contest! Good luck.


	7. A Night Lived Part One

"A Night Lived (Part One)"

It was degrading beyond belief.

Ed pushed his hands into his eyes until little patterns danced around his eyelids randomly and hunched forward. It didn't help much, save for a short distraction from the complete and utter degradation and humiliation he had to suffer. Someone knocked on the door, but he didn't answer.

"Ed, are you all right?" Roy called through the door. "Are you constipated or something?"

Edward decided then and there that he would _never ever_ have sex with another man again. When Roy next came up to him with that "I-Want-Sex" look on his face on his face and shoved his hands in places that felt _really good_ when touched and was about to do something _so bad_ and _good_, Ed would remember sitting here and trying to get the other man's semen out of his system. And then he'd smack the man and threaten to castrate him.

"Ed? _Fullmetal, what's wrong?_" Roy asked again. At this, Ed removed his hands from his face and growled.

"I'm trying to shit out something that isn't _white_," the teen said, gritting his teeth through another bowel movement. "We are _never_ having sex again. Never. You're so...and now I'm full of it! _IT!_ _Your _semen! It's _disgusting_!"

The silence on the other side of the door seemed impenetrable. It was like a barrier was keeping any and all sound out. There might've been, too, with them being in a magical setting, after all. Or, he considered, maybe he'd grossed Roy into celibacy.

"At least it's mine," Roy finally replied. There was a loud cough from his side of the door, followed quickly by a series of loud thuds. "Oh, sorry. Snape just choked on his tea. I don't think he knew that we did that. Anyway, lunch is almost over. If it's _possible_, you'll want to finish within a couple of minutes, unless you want to explain to your teacher in front of your _whole _class why you were late."

It might've been the fact that Severus now _knew_ that the teen was sleeping with Roy, but regardless of reason behind it, Ed felt his face get hot. He quickly wiped, flushed, and strode over to the mirror.

"You should probably splash your face," it suggested timidly. Ed nodded, taking in his blotchy and over colored face and wondering why the mirrors at Hogwarts insisted on speaking to those it reflected. That, and why they spoke _at all_. Moreover, he pondered why his had a _shy_ personality. "Or--or something like that..."

"Whatever," Ed murmured, but took the advice anyway. After a few moments, he'd cooled off enough to leave the room.

Severus and Roy were sitting together. That is, they were _facing_ one another and intentionally keeping their attention as far from each other as possible. Roy had his face downcast to several sheets of parchment with red and black ink splashed all over. Severus, meanwhile, was examining a groove in the headboard of his bed with _extreme_ focus on his face. Ed wondered if he could look that focused if he _tried_. Or quiet, since both were tight-lipped and silent.

"Did everything come out okay?" the latter man asked monotonously, turning his head in such a way that his hair swept across his face. Ed glared pointedly, astounded at how the man had phrased the question. The man cocked an eyebrow in response. "I simply ask out of _concern_. I'm aware of how demeaning the process can be."

"How did that come to happen?" Roy asked, not looking up. Severus ignored him and went back to examining the headboard. The blond knew neither man would push the topic further, but recognized the _tiny_ gesture of kindness.

And, after nodding his goodbyes and warning the murderous ex-professor to keep out of sight, Ed slung his bag over his shoulder and headed off to his next class.

**THIS IS A BREAK ****LINE****; IT ****HAS**** NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.**

Ed cursed lightly as he made his way to the dungeons. He'd followed Neville - stupidly, in retrospect - until the other boy had asked, quite simply, just _what_ he was doing, and didn't he have potions in the dungeon? He finally made it down the final flight of stairs and ran down the hall, left foot loud on the stone. Just as the door came into view, the bell reverberated loudly off the walls.

"Shit!" he spat, sprinting. He made it to the door, but found himself blocked, along with Ginny's brother, Ron, by a translucent man with a leery, mischievous grin.

"Oh, oh, oh, what have we here?" Peeves asked, eyes fixing on the two. Ed arched his brows.

"I'd tell you to get your eyes checked, but that's not a very doable course of action - what, with you not being carbon-based and all," the blond retorted, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. "So, since you can't _tell_, I happen to be a student here. Here being, of course, _there_, at the moment. You know, in the room behind you?"

"Sorry, _Miss_," the sprite-thing cackled. Ed grit his teeth as his shoulders rose. "You know you're in trouble, trouble, trouble, don't you?"

Ron looked like he was about to say something, but Edward hardly cared. He just let out a primal growl.

"Not _near_ as much trouble as you'll be in," he reached for his wand after barely remembering not to use alchemy. Just because he could didn't mean he _should_, necessarily. "And _who_ you callin' _Miss_?"

Ron moved out of the corner of his eye. Ed fixed his gaze on the upside-down poltergeist.

"You're either a 'miss' or prefer men," the mini-man snickered. "What other reason is there to look so pretty?"

At this, Ed saw red. Regardless of his..._thing_...with Roy, by no means did he consider himself _gay_. He reared back, drawing his right arm behind him to punch the offending ethereal being. About a half a second later, he realized two things: one, he couldn't actually _touch_ a non-organic creature and two, his arm had stopped with a _really cringe-worthy sound_. He froze, as did Peeves, and shut his eyes, muttering a few expletives under his breath and hoping he hadn't done what he thought he'd done.

A peek behind him revealed that his hopes were in vain. His elbow was nearly _embedded _in Ron's stomach. The young man's face, he noted grimly, was a mixture of shock and nausea.

As not to cause any further damage, Edward slowly pulled his auto-mail out of his classmate's gut and placed a steadying hand on his arm. Now that the shock was starting to wear off, the redhead was starting to gag violently.

"You okay?" Ed asked, trying to get a good look at the other teen's face. Ron coughed uncontrollably despite his desperate attempts to speak. "Do you, er...need to see the nurse?"

Ron shook his head, eyes clenched shut as tightly as his teeth. Ed _knew_ it'd be awkward, but he had to do this.

"Uh...you really should see her," he attempted lamely. Ron shook his head again, and even Peeves seemed concerned, flipping himself carefully. Ed tried again. "I'm serious - you really should see the nurse. I know I don't look it, but I'm really strong. You might be--"

It was unclear whether it was fortunate or unfortunate, but at that moment, Professor Slughorn opened the door to his room. Ed looked at him from around his house mate's side, horribly aware how obscene and suggestive - sexual or otherwise - this position was, and that rumors were likely _already_ spreading. The old man seemed unfazed.

"Mr. Elric, Mr. Weasley, you're late," he said, running his fingers over the doorknob. "I assume you have an arsenal of excuses for me, boys?"

"I hit him," the blond interrupted, aware how lame he sounded. "Elbowed him, elbowed him - I have to take him to the Hospital Wing." Ron let out a moan of protest. "It was an accident. His stomach--"

"What's the harm in that?" the professor asked, beckoning for them to enter. "Now, then, we're working on--"

"You don't get it," Ed interjected desperately. "_I_ elbowed him in the stomach. Inadvertently, yeah, but it was _me_ who did it. With my right arm. _I_ hit him with my _right_ arm, and you should know _exactly_ what the harm in _that_ is."

Slughorn's face reflected _great _confusion.

"And that's because?" he asked again, and then seemed to have a revelation about it. "Oh. _Oh._"

"Yeah, _oh_," Ed growled. Slughorn whipped around and shuffled to his desk, digging around fiercely. A few seconds later, he produced a vial and brandished it to Ron.

"For your stomach," he said dramatically. "To prevent further internal injury and heal the damage already done."

"Are we missing something?" a Ravenclaw boy asked, looking between Ron and Ed. Ed simply rubbed his right arm and watched Ron gulp down the potion. He seemed to recover right away.

"Nothing, nothing," Slughorn waved a hand in front of him cheerily. "Care for the body and all, you know. Back to the lecture."

Ed nodded and took his place before a cauldron, bristling slightly at the attention evident from all his peers. Ron walked over to Potter and Hermione, still holding his stomach. Probably hurt, he decided. Slughorn cleared his throat.

"And therefore...although a bezoar will slow down the effects of its venom, only this draught can cure an ezbee sting. Get to work."

Ed immediately went to the ingredient counter when he heard this and fought his way to the best ingredients: a slightly overripe fruit, fresh insect wings, cloudy hippogriff urine, short hair from a niffler, and dragon's saliva without bubbles. Upon his return, he noticed Slughorn watching him.

"Mr. Elric, you need a partner," he stated plainly. Ed ignored him in favor of bringing to boil six cups of water and lighting the bottom of his cauldron. "I do mean it, Mr. Elric. Find a partner."

"Odd number of people in this class," he shrugged. "I don't mind working alone."

The professor's expression was somehow understanding and befuddled at the same time. The moment the alchemist turned back to his cauldron, though, he sighed.

"You have such _extraordinary_ eyes," Slughorn murmured. Edward looked up, unsure where this was going.

"Uh...thanks, I think," he responded, moving to measure the saliva. Slughorn was insistent.

"_Quite unusual_," he continued, standing uncomfortably close to the younger man. Ed tried to slide away without alerting him to this. "In fact, I think I've only seen that shade once. Are you related to Hoenheim Elric, perhaps?"

"I'm working," Ed murmured, carefully splitting a niffler hair. "Is this important?"

"Not to potions, no, but I'd still like to know. After all, Hoenheim was a _very_ influential figure in history. Some say that he's responsible for a great deal of the legislation keeping the magical community secret," Slughorn almost spat in excitement. The blond shredded his ingredients as he listened. "And he was brilliant! His theories on multidimensionality and the make up of the soul were _revolutionary_! He was a _genius_!"

"I see," Ed slipped a glance back at the blackboard and began methodically carving out the fruit. Slughorn took a deep breath, and as he did so, Ed noticed Harry and Ron watching them.

"You so resemble him," the professor smiled warmly as he said this. "Are you related?"

"Yeah," Ed mumbled. "He's my father."

"Father?" the man's tone was so strong and lost that Ed had to look up. The rest of the class was silent. Slughorn crossed his arms. "That's not possible. He died over 200 years ago."

"You don't say," the blond said dryly. He measured carefully a half a cup of urine and grimaced. Slughorn apparently knew to stop. The rest of the class, however, whispered to those around them. Ed tried to ignore this. It only got worse when, toward the end of class, Pomfrey came in and insisted he come to the Hospital Wing.

**THIS IS A BREAK ****LINE****; IT ****HAS**** NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY. **

"Your potion is almost ready," Severus drawled, checking his watch for the first time since he'd first sat down. Roy, who'd checked his own _well over _a dozen times in the hour or so the potion had been brewing, let out a long groan and pinched the bridge of his nose. It didn't really help his growing headache, but it certainly made his point. He decided to expound upon it even _more_.

"I didn't _ask_ for a potion. I don't even know what it _does_," the general stated plainly, casting a wary glance at the frothy yellow potion. "So..."

"I expect you'll approve," the older man murmured, striding to the cauldron and checking his watch again. He flipped his sleeve up over his hand, gripped a ladle, and dipped out a vial. "I haven't done this since my Mastery. It's since been outlawed in Europe. So far as I know, the United States is the only magical community that yet permits it."

" _America_? _That's _comforting," Roy muttered, running a hand through his hair. Snape set the vial in front of him. "Land of the free, home of _bravado_, and oasis of the idiotic. The same probably holds true for their wizards. So, I don't suppose you'd tell me what this is?"

"It's a de-aging draught," the one-armed man said flatly. Roy blinked his surprise, and Snape curled his upper lip. "I've added enough to de-age you by eleven years, if you drink all of it."

Roy sniffed the liquid a little hesitantly before the other man interrupted him.

"It's only good for the next..." Severus checked his watch again. "...thirty seconds. Drink."

Not knowing why, and not really thinking about it, Roy knocked back the whole vial and screwed up his face. It tasted like _earwax_ in liquid form. He could've vomited, had he not the presence of mind.

Then he waited. And waited. And the bell rang.

"This might come as a shock to you, but _nothing_ happened. Why's that?" he asked, reaching for his overcloak. Snape shrugged indifferently. "I would _love_ answers. Or, at the very least, some _details_ on the effects of the potion. I am _desperate_ for details, actually. Details would make me positively _gleeful_."

"I've never actually seen it work before. It may, judging by its composition, take effect in a few hours or when you sleep. It could also be affected by your blood type, preexisting conditions, diet, physical condition, and any number of other factors," Snape replied, voice low. "As I am not a doctor, I can't say how your body will react to it, but I can assure you that it _will_ cause a change. And don't you have a class to teach right now?"

Roy scoffed and nodded, internally worried. He'd just swallowed something that someone had found dangerous enough to outlaw in all of Europe. Not only that, but it was given to him by a _murderer_. And he had _no idea_ what it was going to do to him. So, despite his mind screaming things very opposite to him doing so, he simply tugged his own bag over his shoulder and left, heading straight across the hall to his own class.

Surprisingly, every one of his students was gathered by his desk, a few speaking in hushed tones hurriedly to each other. This was new. Usually, his sixth-year class was laden down with skippers, procrastinators, and loudmouths. He wondered briefly if this was the bell to _end _class, somehow.

"What's going on?" he asked, glancing at his watch. "I'm not late, but you're all here. I'm not complaining, but why?"

"We just got out of History of Magic class," a Ravenclaw girl started, voice quivering. "We're studying Amestris. Professor Binns says that there are _alchemists_ there."

"Alchemists?" Roy pondered aloud, scrunching up his forehead. "Yes, there are alchemists in Amestris."

"So," Ginny Weasley, a red-haired girl with a proclivity towards procrastination, pressured. "This means that you probably knew one. I seem to recall one called _Zhao Mustang_. Same surname, I notice. And you're from Amestris."

"What's so interesting about alchemists?"

Roy felt a twitch on his scalp just as he said this and rubbed it. There was nothing there, but the twitching didn't desist. It _bothered_ him, like a little fly. Two flies, really; one on each side. And his left ear. And most of his right leg, too. He wondered if someone had jinxed him.

"They're really dangerous and _really_ strong. I've never _met_ one myself, but they sound a little scary. Some people here are _terrified_ of them," Ginny cupped her hands and leaned it, staring at him through her lashes. Or attempting to. How could anyone see through anything that thick? "And there are all these terrible things they're said to have done. Even You-Know-Who is said to have worked with alchemists. And...and your hair is getting longer."

The last part of her explanation, sadly, was the only thing Roy really understood. He'd noticed around the word 'terrible' that his bangs were sneakily reaching for his chin. The alchemist, more certain than ever that someone had jinxed him, let out an irritated huff and tucked the rapidly lengthening hair behind his ears, clearing his throat.

"Yes, my hair _does _seem to be growing. But I think we can ignore that," he murmured, eerily calm despite being aware that his hair was at his shoulders now. "What is your question?"

Ginny bit her lip for a moment.

"Your name. Mustang. There's an alchemist named _Zhao_ Mustang. Who, uh...does alchemy. Are you related?" she asked, shifting and unable, it seemed, to take her eyes off his face. The rest of the class had apparently taken their seats during the discussion, and the absence of body heat/little footfall noises from _their_ shifting seemed to make her uneasy. The redhead reminded him of a cornered cat. "Or are you maybe...him?"

"My name is _Roy_ Mustang," the alchemist explained as his hair finally stopped growing. "As for relations, I don't believe any of them are named Zhao. And I don't think they can do alchemy."

"I see," Ginny said, evidently having grown comfortable enough again to be skeptical. "And you? Can _you_ do alchemy?"

Now his eye socket was bugging him. It felt fuzzy and dark. How it felt _dark_ he had no idea. It just seemed the right word. Dark. Dank, sweaty, blind as ever...maybe his eyebrow was emulating his scalp.

"I can perform basic transmutations that I'm not particularly fond of," he said, not considering the words to be a lie. The general _hated_ basic transmutations. "It's a requirement in my profession."

"And that profession would be?" Ginny asked. Roy glared in response.

"Something we'll be studying in November. Go back to your seat," he muttered. "I'd give you points for tenacity, but that'd be moot. Instead, I'm taking ten points off of Gryffindor for conspicuous and overt tactlessness."

"That doesn't seem fair," a woman's voice came from the direction of the door. He turned to send Madam Pomfrey a glower. While he did this, he noticed a blood stain on her sleeve and an oil one on her abdomen. "I _do_ need to speak with you later, but before that, why would you punish curiosity?"

"Curiosity asks. That _demand_ was an accusation," Roy corrected, hair falling out from its place behind his ear and falling over his face again. "And she's lucky is was only House Points."

"You have much of which to be accused," the nurse said, smiling at him. She seemed oblivious to the rapid and breathy whispers flitting about the room in response. Ginny shot him a knowing look. "Very little of which, I gather, is actually true. But really, I do need to speak with you. Could you come up to the Hospital Wing when you finish your lesson?"

"Be right up," he agreed, shooing her away. Once she'd left, he reached into his desk drawer silently and brought out the stack of papers he'd graded the previous night. "Now, then. My country has been at war off and on for my entire life. No town, no city, no _county_ has gone without seeing the horror of a battle. Your scores," he gestured to the stack violently. "are atrocious. My country goes to war every few years, and I can call _this_ atrocious. It is my fondest wish that you understand the implications of this."

The class, mostly Hufflepuffs, he had noticed, hung their heads. The Raveclaws _gaped_ at him, and the Gryffindors seemed indifferent. It was like watching new soldiers at orientation being scolded. He continued, face feeling as though it were melting.

"But one and _only_ one of you has managed to get a 100 on her test. Therefore, Ginny Weasley will teach this class while I go to the Hospital Wing," he stated, taking in the look on the girl's face with relish. Her jaw could be _stretching_, it was so wide. With his own characteristic smirk, he turned to the door and, quite simply, left.

**THIS IS A BREAK ****LINE****; IT ****HAS**** NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY. **

"So, why's _he_ have to be here?" Ed asked, irritated, as he sat across from a silent Madam Pomfrey as she sipped her tea. _Why_, he thought adamantly, was it_ always _sipping? People in England never chugged or slurped or even just plain _drank_ their tea - they sipped! Even the men! He wanted nothing more than to grab a cup of the opaque liquid and just _chug_ to see what they'd do.

"It's rather important," the nurse finally murmured around her teacup. "Among other things, it seems someone jinxed him. His hair is growing so fast that if I don't stop it, he'll have his own fur coat."

Ed, upon hearing this, pictured Roy with a beard, mustache, mullet, and arm hair as thick as warmers. The image alone gave him chills.

"But you _do_ want him here for something else," the blond pointed out. "Something that, in some way, involves _me_. What is it?"

Pomfrey remained silent again, rubbing at the oil stain on her robe absently. How she'd _gotten_ said stain while just examining the attachment at his shoulder was absolutely _beyond_ him. It seemed beyond her, too, considering the look of surprise and confusion that had graced her features when it had happened. And now, she kept touching and spreading the stain.

After a few minutes, Ed threw his head back in a sigh, watching the moving portraits from his upside-down vantage point. One of them had a _salt lick_ in his picture. Just seeing it made him swallow - which was _far_ from comfortable in his position. Another observed him back over a large yellow and violet quill. Even this new activity grew dull after a little while, so the blond heaved himself forward with a slight groan and held his head for a moment to quell the minute headache. Once it was gone, he reached toward his bag.

"Oh, Professor Mustang," Pomfrey suddenly breathed, setting down her teacup and slowly standing up. "You stopped the hex. That's impressive."

Roy's hair, Ed noted, was obscene. It wasn't like he had no experience with long hair - his own reached his shoulder blades when down _anyway_ - but seeing his superior officer in the _military_ sporting the kind of hair a teenager would choose to wear as the _lamest rebellion against his parents possible_. And, for some strange, unknown reason, his collar was wet.

"What happened to you?" the teen asked, crossing his legs and leaning forward until his back felt stretched and comfortable. Roy lifted his hands to brush some of the hair off of his cheeks.

"I drank something someone gave me. I think it might've been spiked," the man replied. Ed noticed that his voice seemed just a _little_ different - just a tad lighter or higher or something like that. "At least, that's what I think happened."

"Well, let's see the damage," Pomfrey said in a businesslike tone. Roy complied, parting his hair for her and turning in such a way that Ed had no way of seeing his face. And he was fine with that; he didn't _have_ to see the other man's face. In fact, he didn't even _want_ to see the other man's face. But he could see Pomfrey's, and hers was changing drastically with surprise. "There's...I mean, it couldn't _possibly_ be...but it is. It's impossible, but _there it is_."

"There _what_ is?" Ed asked, finally standing and striding toward the two. The woman looked like she might faint.

"He's been _de-aged_," she just barely managed before pulling out her wand. It traveled over his shoulders and chest and shot out a beam of white light twice. "De-aged by eleven years. He's...at least, physically, he's a...but it's impossible. He _can't _be a teenager again."

The Fullmetal Alchemist rushed by this point, nearly sprinting the remaining seven feet. He shook his head hard and felt his eyes go so wide that his eyelids actually _hurt_ with how much they bulged. he must've looked _stupid_, but he really couldn't care less. He caught sight of Roy's face and his jaw _dropped_.

The change was...significant. Apparently, Roy had aged _quite_ well, but the face before him made him stare and regret that the man had to age _at all_. Though even Ed had to admit that the older man had always been reasonably attractive, the change made him look just plain _hot_. His shoulders were leaner, his eye shaplier, and his forehead _perfectly_ smooth. The teenager could hardly believe his eyes, let alone his _mind_.

"No way," the teen whispered, reaching up and cupping the face of the man he _knew_. Roy's hands dropped to his side and Ed couldn't help but push it back off his face. "No fucking way. How old are you now?"

"Nineteen, if it's eleven years," Roy answered with his characteristic smirk. It did strange things to his younger face: no lines, no dips in his cheeks...just firm skin, Flawless. White. He _looked_ Xingian. He _looked_ fucking _good_ and young. "You like?"

Ed, not knowing how to respond, ran his fingers through the older (if only _slightly_ older) man's hair. It was soft. His hair'd been smooth before, but now it was _soft_. If he kept this up, he could _seriously_ get obsessed with it. He'd stop stroking if he could. And he could. It wasn't like he had to keep - he wrenched his hands away, wiping them on his pants. Roy's eyebrow arched into his hairline.

"Your hair's shit," the blond spat in a hurry. He could feel his ears heating up and praised his _own_ lengthy hair for covering them.

"You're taking this well!" Pomfrey exclaimed, sinking into her chair. "Dear _God_, someone slipped you a de-aging draught and you're-you're _smirking and arguing about _hair! What if it had been _poison_?! What was it in?!"

"Bourbon. Or perhaps the rum. It was probably the rum, now that I think about it," Roy responded. Ed sent him a _look_. "Almost _definitely_ the rum."

"How much alcohol do you regularly consume?" the nurse asked, and then reconsidered her words. "That doesn't matter! Where did you get the rum?"

"Someone sent it," Roy shrugged. "I thought it was from a friend - it's a popular brew and label back in Amestris. The seal wasn't even broken. But that's the only thing I didn't purchase on my own, so I'm assuming that it's what contained the potion."

"You're supposed to be a general," she said weakly. "Why don't you check if your mail is safe?"

"The seal wasn't broken," the general pressured. Ed twitched. "Hence, I'd checked. Besides, what's the worst that could happen?"

Pomfrey held her head in her hands, shaking it mutely. She was either laughing or on the verge of tears, both of which were terrifying prospects to the blond Roy seemed not to care either way, simply pouring himself a cup of tea and drinking it around his hair. The woman groaned.

"As if it wasn't bad enough with you two just having sex," she muttered. "Now Professor Mustang has taken an _illegal_ potion and become a teenager. It's extremely dangerous and hasn't been tested extensively. Did I mention it's illegal?"

"You sound like Black," Ed raised an eyebrow. Pomfrey let out a hysterical laugh.

"Dear God! Sirius Black!" she exclaimed, laughing loudly. "You've spent _time_ with that man?! I've been subjected to his presence since I was just beginning to Heal. He was in the first first-year class I ever worked with. Never before have I seen so many _accidents_ having to do with dungbombs and jumpers! Never before, never since...please don't let him rub off on you! Roy is a far cry from Remus Lupin. I don't know how the world would manage with two Black-like entities."

Roy sent Ed a look that might've said _I-neither-know-nor-care-who-Black-is _or _what the hell is a jumper?_ Ed assumed it was the latter, shrugging in response. Pomfrey continued to laugh, stomach jiggling with the motion. Roy sighed.

"So, is there any particular reason that you're laughing so hard?" the general asked. Ed wanted to ask himself.

Pomfrey cleared her throat, the laughs and giggles dying down.

"No, no," she managed. "I should be worrying over your health, not reminiscing about the days of Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and James Potter. Let me see your face before anything."

"Yes Ma'am," Roy answered. He knelt down to her level and allowed her to poke and prod at his face. She even went so far as to pull his eye patch off and examine the socket.

Except it wasn't just a socket. Ed could see that. The nurse's fingers ran across an eyelid that hadn't been there before and he took a deep breath, batting her hand away. The woman sent him a scandalized look, but the blonde's superior ignored her.

Ed followed him to the mirror above the sink - which, for whatever reason, was called a _washbasin _by all his classmates. The skin around his eye was paler than the rest of it, but he had an _eyelid_ and beneath it, an _eye_. A real eye. He waited impatiently for him to open it, and when he did it was white and lifeless. Probably blind. Almost _definitely_ blind. Roy blinked a couple of times.

"It's there," the older man murmured, running his fingers over the lid. "I can't see out of it, but it's there. How _perfect._"

"I suppose that makes sense," Pomfrey sighed. "The potion restores you physically to the condition you were at that age. Major accidents and injuries like yours wouldn't be healed no matter what. You'll have the eye, but you won't see out of it again. There's nothing we can do about it. Are you okay with that?"

Roy nodded.

"Good, then," she said, standing up and pulling him into a covered area. "Now, then, let's proceed with a physical exam."

**THIS IS A BREAK ****LINE****; IT ****HAS**** NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.**

Ed's jaw dropped as Pomfrey repeated what she'd said.

"Professor Mustang will be confined to your rooms for three days, at the very least," she said matter-of-factly. "That way, any changes he undergoes won't detract from the _learning environment_ or shock anyone beyond safe limits."

Roy nodded. How he was taking this so well was beyond the younger alchemist. Pomfrey checked something on a clipboard and looked between the two.

"I also don't want you two having sex for the next few days," she ordered. Roy didn't react, but Ed sighed. He didn't know whether it was out of relief or disappointment. "Even after the three days are over, I'd advise use of protection. Condoms would be best. You can get them at Philostrate's Pharmaceuticals in Hogsmeade. May I assume that Professor Mustang is the one on top?"

"Yes, and you would be correct," Roy confirmed. Ed felt his face heating. "You want to run tests?"

"Just on Edward for the moment," she said. "I'm assuming he was a virgin before you two..._slept_ together. You, on the other hand, clearly wouldn't have been."

After a few minutes of complicated Latin phrases and strange colors emerging from stranger places, Pomfrey seemed content. She put her wand away and scribbled something onto her board again. Ed rubbed his head.

"So?" he asked. "Anything wrong?"

"No," she answered. "Everything is in order. No reason to worry."

Roy chuckled.

"Does that mean I'm clean too?" he inquired. When Pomfrey nodded, he ran a hand through his hair and sent Ed a smirk. "Good. Are we free to go?"

"Straight to your rooms," she said. "Is that clear?"

"Yeah," Ed muttered. "Clear."

**THIS IS A BREAK ****LINE****; IT ****HAS**** NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.**

A day off. Three days after Roy'd been de-aged, Ed was given a day off with all the other seventh-years. And he had nothing to do. His options were either to spend it with Roy or to study somewhere quiet. The former choice seemed like it wouldn't be too much fun.

Just as well, he thought when the library came into view. It was crowded and noisy for a study area. So, heaving his bag onto his shoulder, the blond started up toward his room.

But a few students got in his way.

Oh, shit.

**THIS IS A BREAK ****LINE****; IT ****HAS**** NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.**

Damn Ed's empathy.

Roy crunched his hand into his blind and covered eye as he furiously wrote up his lesson plans for the next day. For _two_ days, _two long and boring_ days, he'd been stuck in his rooms without leave. All because Ed had _empathized_ with a criminal who _happened_ to have a Mastery in potions - and now Roy had to suffer.

He had to admit, though, that Snape could be worse. At least he was quiet. It kind of balanced out Ed's tantrums. And he didn't have any annoying habits or anything, and he wasn't demanding...

The alchemist took a moment to glance back at the letter his brother had sent. It was _just_ what he needed in this situation. Lai just _had_ to time his response to when his _dear_ older brother was trapped in his own rooms.

_Zhao,_

_ (Hahaha! I'm SO not calling you 'da geh' anymore!) _

_ Man, who wants to learn about _Amestris_? We're all sand and war out here. And what kinda name is Hogwarts? Sounds a bit fishy, if you ask me – and I'm saying you _did_ ask me. So don't complain about it._

_ Honestly, Zhao, _when was the last time you fucking wrote?!?!_ I mean, it's been HOW many years since you left to join the military? I didn't even recognize your handwriting, asshole! When I told Yuan she looked like she was gonna faint. YOUR FAULT. She's your older sister! (Mine too but that's not my point) She's getting married, so you need to come back here next summer to give her away. I'm not "allowed" to. Damn tradition._

_ And that presumably __HOT__ YOUNG BLOND YOU HAVE DOWN THERE __ALL__ TO YOURSELF?! What the hell are you waiting for?! Bang her! And someone pulled a fast one on you. Nothing can show you what you want most, dumbass._

_ OH, __AND__ GUESS WHAT?! RIZA TELLS ME THE ONLY SUBORDINATE YOU HAVE WITH YOU HAPPENS TO BE A TEENAGE __BOY__. HMM HMM. Are you switching teams?_

_ I'll fix what I said before, bang HIM. If you still believe the shit about your _desire_ to be with him._

_ Oh yeah, I read something in the paper about you losing your eye when Fuhrer Bradley disappeared. Tabloid crap, right? Oh, wait, Riza told me you really did lose your eye. She even showed me a picture. HUH WHY DIDN'T I LEARN ABOUT THIS?! HOW STRANGE._

_ Yuan actually DID faint when she saw it. I don't think she hit her head or anything, but she's been pressuring me to go see you since. You know she won't travel far on her own, LAZY HAG._

_ Huh? What's this? Riza's going in November? Well that won't do. I'll have to accompany her. You know, to make sure you don't KNOCK HER UP, JACKASS. I bet a chick could get pregnant from just TOUCHING you._

_ Hey, another reason to bang that subordinate. Guys don't get pregnant. Whoa, weird image._

_ YOU __AND__ YUAN, REALLY. How am I related to you two again? Oh, that's right. Our parents SOMEHOW managed to CONCEIVE a third child ELEVEN YEARS AFTER THEIR SECOND._

_ Please tell me I'm adopted. Mom and Dad won't care – THEY'RE DEAD. So I AM adopted, right? YUAN'S __FORTY__. There's NO WAY I AM 21 YEARS YOUNGER THAN MY SISTER._

_ Hey, old man, I forgot. I was digging through your old room (THAT YOU HAVEN'T USED FOR TWELVE YEARS BUT MOM MADE US KEEP AS-IS). ICK I FOUND AN OLD CONDOM. OOOOLLLLLLDDDD. It looks older than you, but I don't know SINCE YOU'RE SO FUCKING OLD. And it's USED. HOW ICKY IT IS._

_ Should I frame it and send it?_

_ ARGH. FUCKING NIAO. Did you TRAIN this owl to screech every couple of minutes? And why are we sending letters with owls anyway? There's this thing called a POST OFFICE, you know! They deliver letters and – guess what – don't even talk to you._

_ Scotland seems interesting. I can't wait until November. OWLS. REALLY. Sounds like fun._

_ Okay, I sound like a bitch. I'm just gonna say one more thing before I sign off and send this MAGNIFICENT BIRD OF THE NIGHT on its way:_

_GET__ FUCKING LAID, ZHAO._

_ Okay, see you in November. Write back. I think I like the owl. I've named him Bo._

_ Lai_

Roy held his head and pulled on his hair. Hell. Stupid Lai. Of _course_ he'd turn the letter into a statement. And fill it with sex. He pulled out a sheet of parchment and put quill to paper.

_Lai-_

_ ASS. I was SERIOUS. (I'm a bit scared that you were too, so I'll leave it at that.) _

_ Yuan's getting married, huh? That's ironic – for reasons I'm not going to tell you right now. You don't deserve to know. Tell her I said congrats and all that stuff._

_ I thought you didn't go for older women. Riza IS 24 you know. WOW __FIVE__ WHOLE YEARS. (You're rubbing off on me! Damn it.)_

_ Not everyone needs to get laid every night, you hornball. Look at poor Yuan. I think she's still a virgin. Maybe we don't all need to go to that extreme, but..._

_ Oh, God. I am NOT discussing Yuan's sex life. No._

_ A condom, huh? No, don't frame it. Just bring it with you in November and I'll put it in my wallet next to my pictures of you, Yuan, and Maes's daughter Elicia. Won't that be nice? Sibling, sibling, godchild, condom, parents..._

_ BLOND SUBORDINATE WHO IS AN INCREDIBLE LAY (Riza, perhaps?)_

_ All nestled in with my money. THEY USE A COIN SYSTEM HERE. My wallet is useless. Useless!_

_ Right, then. I've told "Bo" to nest in your hair if you don't write back soon enough. Oddly, he only pays attention when I call him _Syphilis_. I take it he got that from you?_

_ Right. Bye._

_ ROY. Get it right, bastard. Zhao is my MIDDLE NAME._

Roy looked his letter over for a few seconds before tying it to Bo/Syphilis's leg and tossing him out the window. He returned to his lesson plans, but in seconds buried his head in his arms. _This was so dull_.

A knock came from the door, so Roy picked up his head. _Definitely_ Ed. He _would_ knock with things so quiet.

"It's unlocked," Roy called, bowing his head again. When it opened and closed, he ran his hand through his recently cut hair. "You have _no_ idea how bored I am."

Ed didn't answer. This was normal for them, though. His footsteps approached the desk, and then stopped. He must've _really_ wanted to be quiet, judging by the care he was taking. No doubt the thud he heard a moment later was his bag falling onto the floor. Roy sighed.

"I can't wait to get out of here," he confessed, moving his hand from his eye to his cheek. He tapped his quill against the paper, wishing desperately for a pen. He'd have to smuggle some into the school. "Being stuck in a room for three days straight...it didn't sound so bad at first. And your goddamn fènghuáng hasn't even bothered to look at me without considering bloodshed. Human flesh must be a delicacy to her, if it means anything."

Roy heard Ed fall to the bed with a faint 'thump' and a few images of what they'd _done_ on said bed danced in his mind. He smirked, chuckling. It was good having another person in the room who wasn't _Snape_, particularly when he hadn't had sex for four days when the image of it was right in front of him.

"I don't believe that's _your_ bed," he murmured, adjusting his eye patch. Eventually, he might get out of the habit. "Isn't that right?"

Ed leapt to his feet at this. Roy tsked.

"Not officially, anyway," he continued. "Although I suppose it's a shared room. Why not a shared bed?"

"Professor Mustang, who do you think you're talking to?" a voice that was _clearly_ not male asked coolly. Roy froze. "Are you married?"

"Nnn... Yes," he answered, heart racing. "I am, Miss Weasley. And I thought I was speaking to my spouse, to answer your first question. I don't believe this is your free period, either. What are you doing in my private chambers?"

"It smells funny in here," Ginny answered. Roy finally turned just in time to see her drop onto the bed on her back again. She kicked a bare leg up and twisted her foot absentmindedly. "What is it? It reminds me of something---I know! It's jasmine!"

"Yes," Roy answered. He could see up her skirt from his angle. But he could ignore it. "Where I'm from, jasmine is a associated with fortune. I guess I couldn't completely ignore the customs I was raised with, though I tried. In Xing, we sprinkle crushed jasmine tea powder around a room to dispel bad luck. With everything that's happened in Amestris recently and the things I've heard about this place, I thought it would be best."

Ginny's foot dropped back onto the mattress. She brought the other up, effectively blocking his view. That might've been good.

"Xing, huh?" she muttered. Roy turned back to his plans. He was almost done. "Ah, well. So, why've you been in quarantine?"

"I was slipped something," he answered relatively truthfully. He underlined the last word and stretched. "Pomfrey thought it might've been dangerous. Besides, she didn't know how the potion would change anything, so she had me stay in here to prevent..._complications_."

The redhead sighed heavily and shifted.

"Couldn't have been too bad. You've got _awesome_ rooms," she said. Roy rolled his eyes. "And a ready and willing wife here for you, right? So the last couple of days couldn't have been all that horrible - ooh, and this bed's nice and comfy..."

"I haven't had sex this whole time," he said. When he looked at her, her eyebrows were in her hair. "I haven't been able to buy any protection. And this really isn't your business, is it?"

"I'm skipping transfiguration," Ginny informed him, flopping onto her stomach and cupping her chin. "Professor McGonagall has _no_ idea. She probably thinks I'm off banging someone. As long as I keep my grades up, though, she doesn't care."

"Charming," Roy stated archly. "Who are you off banging?"

"I don't know," she kicked her legs against the mattress. Man, she was twitchy. "I've been talking to Ed Elric lately. Probably him. Besides, I _do_ rather like him."

"Good luck getting him in bed," he chuckled. She pursed her lips. "He's not interested in women yet - and I would know. I've known him since he was eleven years old. He's never so much as _glanced_ at a girl with half the interest he has for books."

"Ten galleons says I can kiss him by tomorrow night," the girl challenged. "In front of you. Deal?"

"No," Roy declined politely. "I'm not going to bet on Edward's lips."

"Party pooper," she pouted. "Wait...you look different. Come here."

"My room, my rules," he declared, but stood up and stood before her anyway. She beckoned him down to her level, and he complied. Her eyes widened. "You're not a very good guest. So, what's so different?"

"Your face," Ginny whispered, running a finger down his cheek. "It's disgusting! You're actually hot!"

"Thank you," Roy answered, standing up and propping his hands on his hips. "But regardless, those sentiments are inappropriate. Technically, I'm about twice your age. It would probably be illegal for me to urge you on."

Ginny glared up at him.

"I'm fifteen."

"I'm thirty," he countered. There's something almost grief inspiring about this admission. The general met her eyes.

"You must be awfully popular," she smiled inexplicably. Roy raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, yes, terribly popular," he confirmed, sitting across from her on the other bed. The bed used by Severus now. "I've perfected my technique. Compliment the girl - hair, jewelry, clothes. Fake modesty. Hold her hand, take her to the door, grope her incessantly, take her to bed. Simple as that."

"The women must line up to spend the night with you," she cocked her head, giggling. He hates teenager giggles. "You want to hear my technique?"

"Let's," he agreed, fishing in one of his pockets. Ginny takes a deep breath.

"Mine's simple," she explained. "Skimpy clothes, flirtation...if you want sex, be sex."

"The men must line up to spend the night with you," Roy deadpanned. "Honestly. Teenagers. You just want as much sex as you can get."

"As opposed to what in adults?" she asked. Roy sent her a smirk.

"We want the _best_ sex we can get," he said. Ginny bit her lip.

"Whatever. I don't need to think about that," she said flippantly. "You _so_ didn't look like that the other day. What happened?"

"I told you," Roy sighed. "Someone slipped me something. Pomfrey says it was a de-aging draught. Regardless, as I seem to have forgotten to ask, just what are you doing in my rooms?"

"I hexed you," the redhead confessed. Roy raised an eyebrow. "I-I'm really good at it. I'm really good at most things, actually, but _really_ good at hexing. I thought that maybe I'd done something horrible, or that you're _really _weak to magic or something and had gotten hurt."

Roy contemplated this for a moment, looking out the window. Oddly, one of the clouds had taken the shape of a skull. Rather disturbing, actually. And it was the only cloud in the sky, too.

"So, why'd you hex me?" he asked, looking back at her. "And no more _reallys._"

"Because you're an arse," she said. "Simple as that. You're an arse – absolutely pretentious, condescending, and---and---and you know _everything_ we do! How does someone know _everything_ people do, anyway?! It's _so_ not fair."

Roy wanted to laugh, but he knew that'd ruin the image she'd created. And he liked it. He stole another glance at the skull cloud, and then looked back to her.

"You remind me of Edward," he managed evenly. "Except that his words were more like "ass" and "god-complex", if Maes got the message right. Oh, wait…he calls me a _bastard_, not an ass. How could I forget?"

"You're weird," Ginny murmured, smiling. "But I like you. Tell me more about yourself."

The cloud outside was turning green. And the mouth was opening. But _damn_ was it slow. He stretched out and rested his elbows on his legs.

"Not much I can say," he admitted. It was true – he wasn't _allowed_ to tell her much. Not until he and Ed were "outed" as military officials. And married. "Roy Mustang, age 30. Xingian. Left eye is a bother. One brother, one sister, dead parents. Temporary Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts. That's about it, really."

Ginny let out a throaty sigh.

"No fair," she growled. Then she actually pouted. "What kind of secrets are so secret you wouldn't share them with a teenage girl?"

"Generally, the secret kind," Roy deadpanned, shaking his hair out of his eyes. "Teenage girls have a slight reputation for spreading _everything_ they hear wherever they go, after all. Even the charming, intelligent, class-cutting ones do it."

"I'm glad you think I'm so great."

The redhead popped her bottom lip. Roy was actually getting used to this expression, and thought – strangely enough – that it suited her. He glanced out the window and decides that, as the cloud had now sprouted a snake out of its mouth, it might not be an actual cloud.

"What?" Roy asked as Ginny glowered at him. "You asked; I told. Simple as that."

The two were silent for a few moments. Ginny played around with her hair, still just barely covering up the pout. She flipped over again and inspected her nails in an obvious effort to ignore him completely. The silence was heavy, but not uncomfortable. Roy reached for a book.

_"THE CASTLE IS ENTERING LOCKDOWN. DEATH EATERS HAVE ENTERED THE SCHOOL. __ALL__ ROOMS WILL __LOCK__ IN SIXTY SECONDS. THE CASTLE IS ENTERING LOCKDOWN._"

McGonagall's voice cut through the room just as the windows changed back to stone, and the lights went out. Someone threw open the door, and Ginny screamed. It closed a second later, and it was completely silent until the locks clicked. Then, it was just breathing.

"No lights," Roy commanded firmly. He closed his eye in the darkness. "Stay still. Name, year - whoever came in a minute ago goes first."

"Dennis Creevy," a timid voice managed. "Th-third year."

"Ginny Weasley, sixth year," Ginny's voice was breathy. "Professor--" Dennis interrupts.

"I know we're safe, but--"

"What if they get in here?"

"Ginny, you're--"

"Eek! What touched me?!" A thump.

Roy sat back, patiently waiting for the two to calm down.

"It was me! Just me!"

"Don't do it again!"

"I won't!"

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God..."

"I know."

"Oh God, oh--that was my ankle, Dennis!"

"I-I didn't do anything!"

"_What_?!"

"Quiet," Roy barked. "I want absolute silence. If your _heartbeat_ is too loud, I'll stop it. _Do not protest_. Just obey."

The teenagers were silent again. Roy counted the seconds before opening his eye, content with the tiny amount he could see with the light from under the door. Outlines, really. Snape, Roy assumed, stealthily shut the well-oiled closet door. Near it, though, another figure - neither Dennis nor Ginny - moved.

The general's heart skipped.

Now that he was concentrating, he distinctly heard air moving in the corner. Someone was hiding - probably a _Death Eater_.

"Ginny, Dennis," he murmured lowly, pulling his glove on as he did so. "Come sit on the bed."

"We are on the bed!" the teens chorused.

"_This bed_. Now," he ordered. As they scurried over - no protests, thankfully - he activated the array on the back of his glove, pressing it into his thigh to keep from shining any light. He knew he had to be careful while he did this. If he took too much air away from this guy and he was a student...well, he didn't have to worry. The anonymous man gasped and growled.

"What the--?"

Ginny clutched his sleeve tightly. Whoever was in the corner continued to gasp for air and fumble around. It only took a few more seconds before he stopped breathing altogether and a small thump came from the corner. The redhead's hand shook hard. Roy brushed it off.

"Wh-what just...was that...what'd you do...that _was you_, right? What did you do?" she asked, fumbling her words. Roy shushed her as Dennis simply trembled.

"Close your eyes," he demanded. He assumed they did, snapping his fingers.

The resulting explosion, although as quiet as he could make it, muffled Ginny and Dennis's screams. As the remaining embers lit the entrance, Roy slipped on a robe and tapped the students' shoulders. Lihst shrieked at him dissonantly.

"We need to get out of this room," he pressured, standing up. The two remained on the bed, staring at him incredulously. He rolled his eyes. "That's an _order_. We'll go together - I'm sure one of you knows a binding spell. I can protect you if you're close."

"Why did you blow up the wall?" Ginny asked, breathing hard. "We were _safe_."

"No, we weren't," Roy sent a wary glance at the face down man in the corner. "Only Dennis came through the door. That guy got in some other way. That means that more could. If we don't move, we'll probably be killed."

Dennis nodded in understanding, but the redhead stared on.

"But we were--we could've--I...I," she trailed off, and then gripped her hair, looking distinctly like she could rip it all out. "Bugger. Oh, _bugger_."

"I do have some idea what _bugger_ means, Miss Weasley," Roy said lightly, helping Dennis to his feet. When he offered his hand, Ginny smacked it away.

"Arse!" she stood without his help and muttered something in Latin, and something _tight_ formed around his neck. Collars materialized around Dennis's and her own moments later. "These make it so we can't be more than a meter and a half away from each other at any given time. If you try, you know, to get away..."

Roy tugged his own collar. It made him feel a little nauseas.

"I give. What happens if I try to ditch?"

"Off with your head," she said, making a gesture in front of her that caused her breasts to bounce. Roy wondered if it was wrong of him to notice such things. "It's nicknamed 'Filus Maria' - Mary's Leash."

Roy nodded, sighing heavily.

"All right. Dennis, light the way," he commanded. "Ginny, you and I are going to do anything and everything to protect us."

Dennis and Ginny nodded in understanding, both beginning to walk toward the door. Roy stopped them immediately, not willing to risk losing his head right away.

"Lihst!" he called into the room. The teenagers both tugged at his hands. "I know you _hate_ me, but you have to try to listen. Do _not_ let yourself get hurt, okay?"

"Who are you talking to?" Ginny whispered, pulling herself closer.

"A pretty young chick," he replied. "She has a tendency to destroy my bed and sit on a teenager's lap. I have no idea why she even sticks around with me."

"Your wife?" she asked.

"Who in their right mind names a human _Lihst_?" Roy said, rolling his eyes. "I'm astounded Alphonse could even come up with it."

"Not human?" Dennis whimpered, breathing harder. "Then...what is she?"

"A fènghuáng," the general responded. "Who _hates_ me."

"That was Chinese," Ginny whispered, stepping closer. "I thought you were from Amestris. How do you know Chinese?"

"It's the official language of Xing," he murmured. "So, having been born and raised Xingian, I learned to speak it along with English."

"What _is_ she?" Dennis demanded. Roy sighed heavily.

"I already told you. She's a fènghuáng chick," he turned his attention to the darkened room. "You're my guest. I want you safe."

He hoped he was talking to the phoenix.

"All right," the officer coughed. "Let's head out."

**THIS IS A BREAK ****LINE****; IT ****HAS**** NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.**

"My, my. It's already been fifteen minutes. Time flies when you're having fun in a closet," Sirius drawled from Ed's right. It could have been from in front of him, but he wasn't sure.

Remus, someplace equally indiscernible to Ed, sighed and chuckled at once. Something rattled in his general area.

"Sirius, you can't go out and save the world...or the school, as the case may be," he murmured. "You're nowhere near drunk enough. You need more alcohol in your system before I can let you take on so many Death Eaters."

"Yeah, I know. If I'm gonna die, I wanna be drunk. And you haven't _let_ me have anything today," the other man whined. He then sniffed wildly. "Hey - I smell Mrs. Norris. Moony. Tell me why a cat that's _gotta_ be at least _half a century old_ can save the school while I - a clearly evolutionarily superior being in every way - can't."

Hermione's hair, Ed decided, was trying to kill him. He sneezed unpleasantly in it. An elbow hit his ribs.

"Sirius," she began sternly. "All Mrs. Norris does for this school is control the vermin population."

"And spy for Filch," Ron muttered.

"And besides," Remus added. "You're not dressed well enough to save the school. The pictures would look terrible."

Harry chuckled quietly and sighed.

If only there had been a few less people in the library, Ed rued. Then he wouldn't have run into Potter's group and, subsequently, Remus Lupin and Sirius Dog-Man Black. He had no idea which was worse.

"I could validate my midlife crisis with this," Sirius said, sounding much, much too excited about the prospect.

"You're not allowed to have a midlife crisis. We've discussed this," Remus riposted.

There was a period of silence after this.

"So, who wanted to interrogate me about what?" Ed asked with as cheery a tone as he could manage. "It just seems so convenient that I'm stuck here with you, so let's hear it."

Someone else sneezed.

"I was curious about your arm," Hermione murmured, turning her head. Hair attempted to go up his nose. "What's wrong with it?"

"Wrong?"

"You really didn't notice," Harry said from his right. "I stuck your hand in a bucket of water right after we got in here. I was wondering when you might figure that out. So, why couldn't you tell? And why is it so hard?"

"You're going to rust his brace," Remus warned. Ed made a mental note to thank him later.

"Brace?" Ron asked. "No, no. He's strong and his arms are skinny. Remember, I had his elbow in my stomach earlier. I would know."

"It's plated," Ed offered. "That's why it's so unnoticeable."

Someone jiggled the doorknob.

"Bugger," Sirius muttered. "Bloody non-magicable lock. I want to go out there."

"I can't say I've ever heard of plated braces," Hermione said archly, ignoring Sirius. "And you seem to have full control of it. So, why do you need it?"

"My bones aren't right," Ed licked his lips. This was nerve-wracking. "They're weaker than most people's. But only in my right arm and left leg. There aren't any medicines for the condition in Amestris, so the doctor just gave me a plated brace."

"Uh huh," Hermione sounded unconvinced.

"Shhh," Sirius hissed. "Someone's coming."

Hermione pressed back against Ed's chest. He figured it was unintentional. And he was a little distracted by her hair.

"I don't hear--" she started. Remus and Sirius shushed her again.

"Never doubt Sirius's feelings," Remus whispered. "They're _never_ wrong."

A few seconds passed before Ed heard something down the hall. It was too faint, though; he couldn't make out any particular voices. How Sirius had sensed them before he had confused him. Quiet footsteps approached their closet. Words came through.

"You're...people...rir?"

"...There...why are...yes..."

Ed nudged Hermione. She didn't move. He tried again, kneeing her lightly as he did so. With a slight groan, she slammed her shoulders back against him.

"Okay, that's it," he growled, just barely audibly, and grabbed her shoulders, swinging her into his place against the wall. Water dripped from his sleeve onto her robe, undoubtedly, but he didn't really care. "All right, everyone, stand back."

After his whisper, he clapped his hands together softly and pressed them to the door. Lights flashed about for a moment before he snatched his hands back and slammed his shoulder against it just hard enough to burst through it.

Two men outside stared.

**THIS IS A BREAK ****LINE****; IT ****HAS**** NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.**

"Hey," Ginny whispered, clutching Roy's ungloved hand in hers. He looked down at her, grimacing. Trails where tears had fallen covered her cheeks, and her eyes were red and puffy. That wasn't surprising, and he _certainly_ didn't blame her for it. She'd just watched him burn three men to death in less than ten minutes.

She mouthed something else, but nothing came out. Another tear fell down her cheek, but she continued walking alongside him.

Dennis kept walking with a steady hand on his wand. Roy mentally praised him for keeping his eyes shut when he told him to.

A fourth set of footsteps began approaching from a hall to their right. He gestured for the two to close their eyes. Neither did.

"Ginny, Dennis get ready," he gave the former's hand a squeeze. "I'm going to have to kill the next one, too."

A dry sob escaped her throat. Roy tugged her forward, nodding Dennis on as well. He did _not_ need to be any further from the teens than he was. Losing his head wasn't a very exciting thought. He prepared to snap his fingers again as the man noticed them and lifted his wand.

Just as Roy created the spark, the other man shouted. The explosion bent around him.

"Zhen quísi rén," he growled, shielding both teenagers. "Stay behind me."

**THIS IS A BREAK ****LINE****; IT ****HAS**** NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.**

Sirius's reaction to the two Death Eaters - after spending a few moments in presumably deep thought - was to release a throaty shout and engage in a suicide tackle at the closest Death Eater. The display was so unexpected that everyone simply stood, completely motionless, and watched. His target, although masked, maintained a distinctly shocked appearance throughout the attack. The two wrestled for perhaps a moment before the dog-man emerged on top, holding the other man's wand above his head triumphantly and laughing maniacally.

Remus, in the meantime, had pulled his own wand out of his pocket. While Sirius was still in the throes of his victory celebration, the werewolf waved it carefully in the direction of the second Death Eater, whose feet flew out from under him. Hermione scurried in and pulled his wand away as well, stomping on his hands and brandishing the stick threateningly.

"Er," Ron managed, glancing between the two downed intruders. Ed felt as coherent as the redhead sounded. "That, uh--"

"I WIN!!" Sirius roared, pushing a knee between his opponent's shoulderblades. Remus nodded patiently. "TAKE _THAT_! Any last words?"

"Ow," the masked man murmured succinctly. Remus clapped his hands.

"Stupefy," he muttered, pointing his wand at Sirius's victim. He did the same to the one near Hermione and tucked his wand into his belt. Once the two had stopped moving, he approached the second one and lifted his mask. Seeming content, he then stood and ran his hand through his bangs.

Ed, however, sighed, feeling left out of the experience. Ron clapped a hand on his shoulder, nodding his understanding. Harry looked vaguely ill, but Ed let it go.

"So, now what do we do?" Ron asked, ignoring Hermione as she brushed the dust and dirt off her robes. Sirius stood, placing the Death Eater's wand in his pocket and smirking confidently. He took a deep breath. When he let it out, he propped a hand on his hip dramatically.

"What do we do?" he asked. Remus scratched his chin. "What do we _do_? I'll tell you what we do! We--"

"We aren't valiantly and heroically hunting down every last Death Eater in the castle, Sirius," Remus cut him off mid-sentence. "And no, you _can't_ convince me otherwise."

Ed watched, amused, as Sirius pouted and kicked the remnants of the door. Unfortunately, this led to Hermione asking something the blond did _not_ want to be asked.

"Hey," she murmured, glancing between the door frame and alchemist. "I just remembered...Edward, what did you do to the door? You just...clapped...and it broke. How'd you do it? And how can I get it to work on people?"

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed; Ed cleared his throat.

"I'll tell you some other time," he offered. "For now, we should probably try to find someplace safe. It'd be best if we stuck together, but...chances are, that'd make too much noise, and there are intruders _everywhere_. Splitting up might be--"

"You want to split up?" Harry asked quietly. Ed nodded, and the bespectacled boy bit his lip. "I...not only that, but...splitting up might...okay. We should."

Ed took a breath and glanced around. While Hermione and Ron had sent him incredulous looks when _he'd_ suggested the idea, Harry's two words had pacified them. Now the girl seemed a little hesitant, but resigned to the idea. It was as simple as that.

"Who goes with who?" Ron asked, crossing his arms. Ed thought for a moment.

"Er...pick rock or scissors," he suggested, holding out his hand. Everyone else brought their hands in, and, after counting to three, made their decisions. Only Ron picked scissors. Another try had Hermione and Remus joining him. Ed looked at Sirius and Harry, who had also chosen rock, and swallowed.

"So," Hermione looked at Harry. "Where should we go?"

"The kitchen," he answered immediately. "Dobby would be able to hide us. Sirius and I will--Sirius, _Ed_, and I will take the path behind the Grecian tapestry. You, Ron, and Professor Lupin should go behind the armor. Does that sound okay?"

Hermione nodded, fingering her wand for a moment, and then flung herself into Harry's arms. Ed cleared his throat to get her attention.

"We need to get going."

**THIS IS A BREAK ****LINE****; IT ****HAS**** NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.**

Roy gripped his collar and turned to glare at Dennis. The boy flinched under his gaze, but - Roy had to give him credit for intelligence _and_ courage - slipped closer to him. Ginny did the same, clenching his hand again and breathing loudly. The professor used the sleeve of the arm still in his possession to wipe his blood off his collarbone.

"Ginny, conjure some rope," he ordered. She did as she was told, and a moment later Roy stopped and leaned against a wall. "Tether yourselves to me. _Make sure you're within three feet_."

While the two did as he asked, he mentally tallied up what had happened. Since leaving the room, they'd been attacked at least six times. Five times, he'd killed their assailant. Once, Ginny had done something to freeze one. In total, they'd probably only traveled fifty meters. The alchemist weighed his options and turned to Dennis.

"I will actually _reward_ you if you can concoct some way to get out of the castle's lockdown," he said, twisting his ankle to make sure Ginny's knot hadn't cut off his circulation. "Same for you, Ginny."

Both shrugged, looking vaguely scared and angry. Roy pushed off from the wall and continued on his way. Their footsteps echoed softly in the empty hallway.

A lavatory came into view, and once they'd reached it, Roy tried the handle. Nothing happened. But he thought this was okay. Hiding out with _toilets_ was far more unacceptable than even a closet. Ginny pulled his hand lightly, so he continued.

"Professor," Dennis whispered. "Can't you just...I mean...why not hex or bewitch..._them_?"

"I am incapable of magic," Roy replied. "What I'm doing is the only thing I _can_ to help us. It's all I know. To date, it hasn't failed me."

They traveled on a little ways more without incident before Dennis dropped his wand, thus eliminating their light. While he crouched down to feel around for it, Roy strained his ears as they picked up on faint whispers ahead of them. The light came back on and, without alerting his "charges" to the noise, he began to head toward it again. Dennis coughed purposefully. Ginny squeezed his hand.

"I don't care if it's magic or alchemy or whatever, but what you're doing is violent. It scares me," she admitted, tugging him around a corner. "Can't you not kill them?"

"My country's been at war for decades," he tried to repossess his hand, failing to do so. "Those who haven't killed are the minority. We aren't taught non-lethal self defense."

"You could try it," the redhead muttered. "I mean..."

She trailed off as they turned another corner. On the ground were two Death Eaters, each presumably unconscious. Something like a broom cupboard had its door broken down, and the fragments were littering the hall. He checked to see if they were still alive before beckoning for the two students to follow him.

**THIS IS A BREAK ****LINE****; IT ****HAS**** NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.**

"Bloody cobwebs," Sirius murmured, wiping at his face in the dim light. Harry nodded his agreement, and Ed sighed heavily. The passage seemed too long to be real. It kept getting tighter, too; he was almost touching the other teen by this point. "At least we're almost there. Why'd Remus get to take the short route?"

"Because he's less likely to _kamikaze strike_ the next Death Eater he sees," Harry answered bluntly. "Honestly, Sirius - why didn't you just stun him?"

"A real man takes on his enemies hand-to-hand!" Sirius 'explained' vehemently, fist pumping and smacking into a wall. He rubbed it for a moment. "Besides which, I forgot my wand."

Ed scoffed. Sirius knocked twice on the wall to his right, and it opened into a hall.

"Okay, coast is clear," he muttered, pulling himself through the opening. "Harry, Ed, get out here."

Ed climbed out after Harry, watching their only adult companion tap his foot impatiently. Once he was out, Sirius stretched his arms over his head and let out a sigh of unmistakable relief. A grin spread across his face when he finished.

"ONWARD INTO BATTLE!" he barked, throwing an arm over Harry's neck and dragging him. Ed was left to follow, and follow he did. The teen tried to keep up with his companions as they sped down the hall. It would've been _far_ easier if he hadn't been wearing a cloak. "To the kitchen! To house elves and tea cozies! To unlimited amounts of pumpkin juice and possibly alcohol! Let us _charge_!!"

"Yes," Ed agreed as good-heartedly as he could. "And let us forget the original intent to get somewhere safe _quietly_."

"I don't think you've quite realized the true extent of my greatness," Sirius slowed down a little as he said this, finally letting Harry go and stopping. "I am _exceptionally_ exceptional."

"And conceited, but I think that's beside the point," Ed yielded. There was a strange _wooshing_ sound to their left. "Hey, do either of you--"

He couldn't even finish his sentence before three people slid out from behind a painting and slammed directly into Sirius. They slid about two meters before stopping in a pile of confused groans, heavy breathing, and incoherent sentences. In another situation, Ed could've mistaken it for sex.

"Oh...Roy," the blond blinked, recognizing his superior in the pile immediately. "Nice entrance. Are you hungry?"

**THIS IS A BREAK ****LINE****; IT ****HAS**** NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.**

A/N: Sorry about the cliffy...I tried to give myself a deadline. It's been two weeks since it passed, so I figured I'd update.

So, who liked it? I haven't written action since last July...I wasn't sure whether I could still do it well. Anyone have an opinion? Personally, I enjoyed writing the kamikaze Sirius part, but any feedback is welcome, as always. (By the way, I'll be sending out notices about who guessed right in the contest with this update)

The rest of the scene may come up sometime this month...but I am a bit busy. I have about five concerts in one band (ARGH! Being a classically trained trumpet player is hard and time-consuming!), a trip to California with another, two band competitions, a writing competition, an article due on education, four tests, and two songs I have to transpose and master before May. And I have to play french horn with a thumb temporarily paralyzed at the second joint, which is going to prove difficult...

Enough on my life! Reviews feed the story and author. Don't starve them.

So, let's summarize how I've left things: Roy, Ginny, and Dennis have been struggling to survive, Sirius is having WAY too much fun, and Ed, somewhere in the middle, is attempting to remain sane. And let's not forget the Protectme!Ginny and the trials Remus et. all are undoubtedly experiencing...Hope you enjoy chapter eight someday!

Thanks! Over and out.

(P.S.: Guess what? Grindewald has an icon set now! Isn't that AWESOME?! I love whoever made them, so tell me if it was you so I can credit you!)

(P.P.S.: APPRECIATE THIS. IT TOOK FOR FREAKING EVER TO UPLOAD IT, AS THE DOCUMENT MANAGER IS PARTLY DOWN.)

(P.P.P.S.: WHO HARTS LAI?!)


	8. A Night Lived Part Two

"A Night Lived (Part Two)"

Roy looked up, clutching at his collar and groaning. Someone's hand was trapped between his legs. Ed, for his part, simply stood there tapping his foot.

"Hungry?" Roy rasped, arching an eyebrow. The blond nodded.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "We were on our way to the kitchen. You could come with us, go somewhere else, or just lay there and pretend to be dead. So, what do you want to do?"

Someone in the pile groaned.

"Is there alcohol and coffee there?" the general asked, completely serious. Ed shrugged, and a grunt came from under Roy.

"A man after my own heart," Sirius's voice came from just below Roy's thighs. "Or on top of it. God, you're heavy. Mind literally _getting off my chest_? When you do – _urgh, I can't breathe –_ we can drink to anything you want. _Ow_."

Roy tugged at Ginny and Dennis. The three slowly rose to their feet, and Ed cocked his head.

"Whoa. You're bleeding," the younger alchemist said. He stepped just a little closer than Roy might have liked. "Are you okay?"

"I've killed nine people today," Roy murmured, observing Ed for any reaction. The teen remained silent. "Of course I'm not okay. But what about you?"

"I...uh," the blond coughed. "I'm okay."

The group was oddly silent for a few moments, Harry grooming and brushing off Sirius. Ron spent the time looking over his sister carefully. The general stared Edward in the eye until the other alchemist looked away.

"I broke a door down," the teen offered. "That's the worst of my day. Sorry yours was shit."

"My day's been _great_," Sirius said, leaning against the wall. "So I'm sorry, too. Not as sorry as Ed, I'm sure, seeing as you two are _so_ close, but..."

"Sirius," Ed interrupted. "Shut up."

Roy spent a moment staring at his young subordinate before sighing heavily and tugging Dennis and Ginny towards the other group. The blond flinched when he looked at his neck, and it took a moment for the general to realize why.

"Oh, _man_, are you bleeding," Ed pointed out, reaching up and pulling at the collar around the man's neck._ "_And why are you wearing a collaranyway?"

"You really don't want to know," Roy answered. "That said, it's not a good plan to stand around like this while the castle's under lockdown. You said we were going to a kitchen?"

"Oh, yeah. I guess we should go," the younger man admitted. He leaned in close, scrutinizing the collar. While right next to the older man's ear, he growled a warning. "Behave."

Sirius sent the pair a knowing glance before turning to the bespectacled boy next to him.

"Right, right; we ought to go," he said loudly. "Right _now_."

"Should I ask?" Ed muttered, casting his eyes over the painting in front of them. Harry shot him a glare and reached up, cloak billowing unrealistically around his hips. The blond ignored it, watching the other teen tickle – tickle? - a peach in the painting.

After a moment of squirming, the peach became a doorknob, which Harry immediately turned and yanked open.

"So much sense," the young alchemist murmured. "Everything here makes _so much sense_."

"You know better than that," Sirius admonished. "If you have nothing nice to say, don't say it sarcastically either. Besides, the walls have ears."

"I don't doubt it," Ed growled, following him into the room.

Little people were _everywhere_.

"Oh, Professor Mustang," Remus's voice rang across the room. "What a surprise. I see you bumped into Sirius and the group. And you brought along Mr. Creevy and our own young Miss Weasley. Thank you."

A few joyful noises met his words, and Edward watched as Ron and Hermione rushed to Ginny's side, speaking at the same time and embracing her. Remus pecked Sirius on the lips briefly before scanning the room and closing the door. Harry leaned against the wall, almost _shaking_.

"Are you okay, you--" Ed cut himself off, reminding himself to be civil. "Erm...you...look pretty bad."

The other teen took a deep, trembling breath and sat down, wiping a fair amount of sweat off his brow. The blond knelt down, actually concerned.

"Seriously, man. You look like shit. What happened?" he asked, peering into his Housemate's face. Harry _really _looked sick. "Whoa, uh...should I be doing something? Do you need to lie down or something?"

"Don't draw attention to it," Harry whispered, watching his friends fuss over Ginny. "It's...my scar. It does this sometimes."

He was lying.

Ed tugged his glove off his left hand, placing his palm over the other boy's forehead. He was warm, but not feverish. And before he could actually do anything else, Harry pulled his hand away.

"I'm not sick," Harry protested. Ed raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not stupid," he countered. The other boy looked embarrassed. "But if you're that determined, I'll leave you alone. I don't do charity for idiots."

The two glared at each other for a moment.

"Ed?" Roy called over, breaking the mood. "What're you doing?"

Ed cleared his throat and met his superior's eye. The other teachers present chuckled, and he raised an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked. Remus recovered immediately.

"I shouldn't be laughing, I know," he murmured, the chuckle still in his voice. "Your nose is bleeding. Pretty badly, actually. You didn't notice?"

No, he hadn't. Ed's hand traveled to his face immediately, and he swore quietly. Fuck. When had that happened? He glared at Potter again, who maintained a smugly superior look despite still looking a little sick. One of the little people-things running around the kitchen was at his side instantly with a napkin.

"Thanks," he muttered, walking to a table and sitting on it. "Anyway, what time is it?"

"Six or so," Roy responded, tugging Dennis and Ginny along with him and joining his subordinate. "Which definitely explains why I'm so hungry. If this is a kitchen, where's the food?"

As he said this, Ed watched a few more little people emerge from a tiny cupboard, arms laden with plates of fruits and meat and every other kind of food Ed knew. They pushed the platters up at the two insistently, offering a few to the two on the ground as well.

"Wow," Ed had to admit, taking a bit of everything. "Who knew? You should try some."

Roy nodded, a hand playing with Ed's braid for a moment before going for the food. The blond shoved an apple in his mouth, trying to avoid blushing. Even that familiar, completely non-sexual contact was too suggestive and personal for him to accept in front of these people. The older man probably didn't know how bad it was.

"You two are close," Ron said, sitting on the table adjacent to theirs. "How close?"

The alchemists looked at one another for a moment. Inwardly, Ed hoped Roy had some excuse already cooked up. Of course he would. Or he'd, erm...do something else...

"We're _very_ close," Roy confirmed with something close to a smile. Ed wanted to groan. "Actually, I probably know him better than anyone else, here or back home. I'd say I know _everything _about him. Is that good enough?"

"No," Hermione said, jumping onto the table next to Ron. "How'd you meet? Where? Details would be appreciated."

Ed cleared his throat, noticing the eyes of _everyone_ on him.

"We met about six years ago," the blond said, running a hand through his bangs. "My family was gone – except my brother, anyway – and he came to get me. He, uh...knew my father. Kind of. That is, he'd worked with him. Anyway, he brought us to the capitol and set up a place for us to stay. There you go."

"So he raised you," Ron nodded, seemingly understanding perfectly. If only he knew. "Did you live together?"

"We did," Roy lied. Ed admired him in an odd way. "But enough about us – tell us about the school. As you know it."

The other teenagers looked at each other. Potter had been approaching the table when Roy had made the inquiry, and now had frozen in his tracks. The conspiratorial looks between them confused the blond, at least until four of the five burst out laughing.

Now, he was completely lost.

"You don't want to know, mate," Ron managed between peals of laughter. "Trust me, unless you've seen monsters or something, you _don't_ wanna know."

"I've seen 'or something'," Ed clarified. "How bad could yours be?"

"Oh, it's bad," Potter's eyes narrowed, mirth forgotten. "For example – the horseless carriages?"

Ed thought for a moment, looking to Roy. The other man seemed as lost as he was.

"What horseless carriages?" the young alchemist asked, racking his memory. "I mean, those were _creepy_ looking horses, but they were...probably horses. With scales, but whatever. I suppose they're important?"

"Very," Hermione seemed a little shell-shocked. "You can't see them unless you've seen someone die."

"Oh," Roy said, munching on a carrot. _Definitely_ too sexual for Ed's taste. "That makes sense. Your mother was your first, right?"

Ed nodded, glaring. Ginny coughed.

"That sounded too dirty, Professor," she said evenly. The blond redirected his glare.

"Who was yours?" he asked, trying to get back at him.

"An Ishbalan," the man said quietly. "Her name was Inmari. She was a beautiful woman. Before the war, I dated her a little while. She became a soldier. I'm sure you understand what happened, _Edward_."

Ed did. No way he wouldn't – Ishbal was horrible. He hadn't just seen her die – he'd probably killed her, too. Poor man.

"You watched your _girlfriend_ die?" Ron looked horrified. No big surprise there. "Ugh. Sorry. That had to be bad."

A few minutes more and Roy had finished off all the food he'd taken. He beckoned over another one of the little people.

"Get me your strongest liquor," the general commanded. The little person nodded, rushing off and back in a matter of seconds. He handed up an enormous bottle, and Roy took a moment to read the bottle. "'Merilgin's Magical Whiskey'?"

"Good stuff," Sirius called over. "Mustang, throw me some."

"One bottle,"Roy retaliated, taking an enormous swig of the liquid and throwing back his head. "Oh, but you're right. _Damn_, this is good. Get your own."

Ed scooted a few inches away from his superior.

"Come on," Sirius stood up and approached, smiling. "Just a couple of sips."

"You wouldn't get drunk off a couple of sips," Roy growled. "Get your own, okay? This is _mine_ now."

"Fucking alcoholic," the dog-man countered. "You're gonna give yourself one _hell_ of a hangover. And you're attached to two teenagers. Thanks for being such a great example."

Ginny shrugged while Dennis simply looked uncomfortable.

"Like I've never been drunk before," the redheaded girl muttered, stretching out. She banged her head against the table leg a few times. "And Sirius, you _reeked_ of alcohol whenever we came to visit you...a couple years ago. Besides, I _like_ Professor Mustang. He's cool."

Roy sent Ed an "I-told-you-so" look.

"Thank you, Miss Weasley," he smirked. "But that still won't get you any of this."

"I was that obvious?" she pouted. Ed wanted to smack her, almost. "Darn. And here I thought I was being sneaky."

"You know, you not being all goody-goody is kind of scary," Potter admitted, holding his head. "Where did the sweet _take your time, I understand_ Ginny go?"

"You dumped me," she muttered, drawing her knees up. "She kind of left."

Ed hazarded a glance to Roy, shocked to discover he'd already finished a quarter of the bottle. He even _looked_ sober. Either the older man had a _really_ high tolerance for alcohol or the drink didn't have a high content.

"So," Ed tore his eyes away from his superior for a moment, "she wasn't always...this way?"

Ginny laughed, playing with the rope around her arm.

"I just decided...well, you know, _to hell with it..._after Harry dumped me. I just wanted to have some fun," she said, an appropriately smug look on her face. Ron looked a little sick. "So I snuck out a lot during the summer. Partied, got drunk, got laid – _God_, it was fun. It just makes you feel so...so _dirty_, you know? It's _exhilarating_."

Roy, to Ed's horror, nodded.

"Definitely," he agreed. "Youth is _just_ for having fun. Because really, adulthood _sucks_. Edward, she has the right idea."

"You're drunk already, aren't you?" Ed asked. Roy nodded.

"A little bit. This is _very_ good stuff. And don't you dare tell me that you've never gotten drunk yourself," the man grinned. When Ed sent him a pointed look, he raised his eyebrows. "I taught you to cheat and lie. I gave you _freedom_ from persecution of _any_ crime aside from murder, and you abused it. You stupid little do-gooder."

"Shut up," the blond blushed. "How did I abuse it?"

"_You_ went and followed all the laws," he accused. "And even when you didn't, it was for _good_ reasons. Idiot. You kidnapped, left the country without a passport, withheld information, and aided a wanted criminal. How could you _not_ get drunk?!"

Ed tensed a bit with everything the older man had said, but the others seemed to be handling it okay. They didn't even seem surprised.

"Getting drunk was never all that high on my list, Professor," he hissed. "Al was. Now shut up and pass out already."

"No," Roy observed everyone. "I am a responsible adult. There's no real reason for me to pass out when there's a crisis at hand, don't you think?"

"But you can get drunk?" Ed asked archly. Roy nodded. "Hell."

_**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.**_

Seven hours later had everyone quiet. Ginny was curled next to Roy, her face hidden.

"She's asleep?" Ed whispered, scooting next to Roy and glancing over her face. She didn't look as pretty unconscious. If anything, she looked unintelligent. A stray drop of saliva was forming at the corner of her mouth, and her hair was strewn messily over her eyes. His superior glanced over her for a moment, nodding.

Roy turned to him, resting his head on his palm as he laid on his side. His free hand went into Ed's face. The blond felt a slight twinge of annoyance, but allowed it, mimicking Roy's posture, minus the hand-in-face part.

"_Long_ day," Ed murmured, voice easily muffled by his superior's hand. "I'd have checked up on you between classes, but Potter and his group got to me first."

"I see," Roy finally said, moving his hand up to Ed's hair. He ran his fingertips over the teen's scalp almost absentmindedly. "Had you managed to do so, I might've been slightly more at ease. As hard as it is to believe, I was worried."

Ed tapped his fingers on his leg.

"About me?" he asked, surprised – but not startled – when the other man nodded in response. "Whoa. Why's that?"

"You've gone missing once. It _won't_ be happening again," the general said in a low voice. "Need I say more?"

A mischievous feeling washed over the younger alchemist.

"You like me, don't you?" he inquired seductively. Roy raised an eyebrow.

"Why would you assume that?"

Experimentally, Ed pulled himself closer, face turning up at his 'roommate's'. The other man mirrored the image, mouth inches from the teen's.

"I need a reason?" the blond whispered. His breathing was getting a little shallow. Interesting. Roy's face continued getting closer, his breath mixing with his subordinate's. He didn't seem to notice, stopping barely a centimeter from Ed's lips.

"Yeah, you do," he replied breathlessly, the hand on Ed's scalp reaching around to cup the back of his head. He pulled him into a brutal kiss, almost crushing his lips.

Ed froze, eyes wide.

They'd only kissed during and directly after sex, and doing this now _did_ things to him. The teen felt familiar stirrings below his waist as his superior pressed his tongue into his unresisting mouth. After a moment of shock, he began to kiss back, not sure what he was doing.

Roy apparently didn't have this problem, coaxing the other alchemist's tongue into his own mouth and sucking it. Ed could've melted, whimpering and groaning quietly at the sensation. He reached up and tugged at the other man's hair, brutalizing both their lips. Roy groaned quietly into his mouth.

"Be...quiet..."

Ed was _fairly_ certain he'd said this, but he could be sure. It had been muffled in their mouths. Roy reached around his subordinate's waist and pulled him into his chest, breathing heavily through his nose. Their lips separated for a moment, but melded together again almost instantly.

They pulled apart again for a moment, Ed blinking and suddenly realizing where they were.

"Oh, fuck," he whispered, covering the other man's mouth. "Fuck, fuck, fuck – did you _not_ realize where we are? Besides being trapped in a room with seven other people, we're _two feet_ away from _her_ and the _kid_! Fuck!"

"Shh," the general whispered, pulling him closer and pressing their lips together again for a moment. "It's your fault."

Ed cast a wary glance around the room, making sure everyone was still asleep.

"How?"

"You tempted me," Roy said matter-of-factly. "And no, this was not my way of confessing that I actually _like_ you, to use your word."

The blond tried to slip away from his superior, but the man's arms wouldn't budge. He hissed, glaring despite the close quarters.

"Let me go," he growled, struggling valiantly. "What if someone wakes up?"

Roy kissed him again, effectively muffling his next questions. The teen tried his best to actively resist, but when his partner pressed their hips together, he lost the will. After about a minute, they separated, and Ed whimpered wantonly.

"Shit, I want this," Roy sighed. "I haven't had sex in days. I want you so bad – right here, right now – but I know I can't..._have_ you right now. So I'm going to stop."

Even as he said this, he continued to move his hips, breathing heavily. Ed clenched his eyes closed, throwing a head back.

"You said you...were stopping...now," he breathed. Roy nodded.

"I am...but you're staying here. Turn around," the man commanded gently. Ed hesitated, but did as was asked of him, still in his arms. The older man breathed softly over his neck. "Fuck. As soon as we get back to our room, we're _fucking_. Condoms or no condoms. Whether you want to or not."

"That's rape," Ed let out a raspy whisper, but felt himself smiling anyway.

"So is having sex with you anyway, so what's the difference?" Roy clarified. "Go to sleep."

The teen nodded, evening his breathing and attempting what he knew would be a hard night's sleep.

_**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT'S NOT IMPORTANT TO THE STORY. CARRY ON.**_

If the night was rough, the morning was _horrible_.

"Oh, good morning, Edward," Remus said all too calmly. Ed nodded, attempting to move. Ginny, somewhere to his side, gagged. "I assume that position wasn't intentional, of course, but you might want to get out of it."

"I'm trying," the blond replied. Roy's arms around his waist didn't help his cause any, especially considering that his face was buried somewhere in the teen's chest. "Someone get some coffee, and he might get off me."

Roy shifted, tightening his grip. Dennis slid further away, testing the limits of his bonds with the man. A few giggles came from Hermione's direction.

"You underestimate me," the general groaned. "I'm tired now. Stay still. You're comfy, and Lihst isn't trying to kill me. It's a good morning."

"The school is under attack," Ed growled. "That's your idea of a good morning?"

"Better that than Lihst," Roy sighed. "She shreds my chest _every_ chance she gets. You must've trained her. I'm good with animals. And she decided she hates me. And I hate her, so it works. And I'm tired, so let me sleep."

Remus cleared his throat, sending a warning glance at Sirius.

"We have coffee and gin," the werewolf said, kneeling next to them. "And Edward _really _needs to get up. Can you let him go?"

"Gimme the gin first," Roy managed. "Then I'll let him go."

Remus sighed, but called for the gin anyway. Once it arrived, he held it out to the general and raised an eyebrow. Roy groaned and rolled off Edward, who nodded to the werewolf in appreciation.

"Uh, good morning," the blond murmured, scooting away from his superior. "What time is it?"

"Ten in the morning," Remus answered. He held out a goblet of...something. "Drink this – it's tea. It should wake you up."

Ed accepted the goblet and sniffed it hesitantly before scoffing. "As if I'm the one who needs to wake up the most. Could you at least caffeinate the gin? I don't want to be put into such a compromising position again."

The werewolf smiled, tipping the goblet against Ed's lips. The blond took a few sips and scowled at the taste. "I'm afraid you haven't seen anything compromising yet, Edward. It's a sad fact of this school that whatever you least expect to see or happen is, inevitably, the most likely thing to occur," Remus shrugged, leaning back. "Take Sirius for example. He's _exactly_ what Hogwarts needed most and least right now, and he's what it got."

Somewhere behind them, Ed could hear the sounds of Roy bumping into the wall (or possibly tables) and cursing.

"Charming," Ed muttered, almost choking on the tea as he tried to drink more of it. He raised an eyebrow at it and glared at Sirius, who whistled pseudo-innocently. "I don't suppose I'm allowed to lock him out of the kitchen now, am I? And did _someone_ put something in this tea?"

The werewolf sent a look back at Sirius as well before pulling the goblet out of Ed's hands and sniffing it. "It would appear so," he answered, going so far as to taste a little himself. He grimaced. "Definitely. I'd say he slipped a peach pit and some orange rinds in here. Don't be too upset – after having spoken to Sirius so many times, you ought to realize how much of a joker he is."

Ed decided not to respond to that. He was slightly more concerned as to _why_ the man had found it amusing to put fruity bits into his drink--

Damn. Sirius was a _brilliant_ prankster if he could incorporate personal digs, puns, and disgusting _garbage_ into a simple practical joke. The young alchemist was going to have to learn to admire him for it, or--

Ron wasn't wearing pants.

This revelation was as surprising as it was disturbing, Edward blinking a few times as the redhead scratched at the back of his neck. Remus noticed where he was looking and chuckled. An odd response, but Ed was _sure_ that the man had seen worse with all his years knowing Sirius. But the blond _hardly_ had, and was thus almost captivated by the scene.

Ron sat back on a table next to a fully-clothed Hermione. The two were talking about...something...

"So, Ron, Bill and Fleur are planning on moving to France?" the bushy-haired girl asked, acting for all the world like this was completely normal. Ed didn't want to consider that _anyone_ in the room went without pants on a regular basis.

"Well, yeah," Ron answered, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Her family lives there – and they're all crazy, so we don't want them coming to visit _us_, you know? It's _insane_."

Hermione tilted her head. "I think it would be fascinating to know them."

"Great," Ron countered. "Then I might be able to match you with that crazy cousin of hers who kept trying to get me to have sex with him. The only problem is that you don't have a little _Junior_ down there."

Ed blanched at the mental image of Hermione with a penis.

The girl was apparently, and rightly so, utterly _furious_. She smacked Ron over the head with a closed fist, obviously signaling the end of the conversation. The redhead didn't seem to pick up on it, though, barging ahead in his idiocy.

"Seriously, 'Mione, I mean it. In a good way. You're safe from _Pierre_," he sounded almost offended as he said this. "You didn't have to hit me--"

Hermione stood up, glaring at him. "I don't want you to _ever_ talk about me with a little _Junior_ again, okay? I thought you were better than that."

Ron finally seemed to catch on, standing as well. He glanced at his cloak and sighed. "Okay, okay. But could you watch my cloak? I have to go fetch my trousers. Dobby's gone mad, I'm sure."

_**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT'S NOT IMPORTANT TO THE STORY. CARRY ON.**_

"It sounds like Hell up there," Ed said airily, looking up at the ceiling that night as a well-timed crash and the sound of splintering wood came from above them. Remus, the only other person awake at the moment, nodded in agreement.

"It's strange not knowing what's going on," he murmured. "If Sirius was awake, he'd be going crazy."

Ed scoffed. "Like he's not already insane," he pointed out, resting his forearms on his knees and interlacing his fingers. "I don't think I've ever met anyone as...as...I've never met anyone like him, let's just say."

Remus chuckled half-heartedly. "Believe me, he's one of a kind," he said quietly. There's no one in the world quite so spontaneous, mischievous, and idiotic as Sirius, and, in some ways, that's a blessing."

"In what ways is it not a blessing?" the blond deadpanned. "How is it a good thing to have such a spaz around at _all_?"

Ron twitched in the corner. Ed eyed him curiously until a snore escaped him.

"What I mean," Remus said, directing the alchemist's attention back to him, "is that, while his personality could be defined as eccentric or extreme, his outlook is so rare that people can't help but like him. He loves life, despite how horrible his own has been. He takes nothing lightly. Sirius is just...there ought to be more people like him in the world."

Ed scoffed, cocking his head. "You're either crazy or completely in love with that guy," he muttered, one of his feet twitching.

"'Lovers and madmen have such seething brains'," Remus quoted, thoroughly confusing the young man. He turned his head and looked at the blond with a grin on his face. "And before you ask, that line is from Shakespeare's _A Midsummer Night's Dream_."

"Oh, I've never actually read anything of his," Ed admitted. "So, which are you? A lover or a madman?"

"It really depends on the time of the month, I suppose. Currently, I'm a lover."

They sat together for a few minutes in silence, Remus's posture and face becoming more and more tense. "Edward," he finally broke the ice. Ed looked at him expectantly. "The Amestrian laws about marriage – how you can marry anyone you'd like – do they only apply to Amestrian citizens?"

"No," the teen replied slowly, leaning forward and squinting at the werewolf. "As long as they fill out the paperwork, _anyone_ could get married. The only catch is that non-citizens have to have at least two military escorts at their wedding."

Another moment of silence passed. "This is premature," Remus began hesitantly, "and sudden, I know, but I have to ask. Is there any way you and Professor Mustang could help me marry Sirius?"

Ed had seen this coming.

"He doesn't seem like a major proponent of marriage," the blond said. "Why do you want to?"

"I work to the beat of a more traditional drum," the older man replied, shrugging. "At least, I work to that beat if it's something my parents are to know about."

"And?" Ed pressured.

Remus sighed. "We're thinking of having children," he confessed. "I know we're not the youngest – but the truth is that we're only just becoming able to. The timing is a little concerning, but we've agreed that we want kids."

The teen almost didn't want to know, but decided to plow ahead anyway. "Why just now?" he asked. Remus let out a hysterical whimper.

"We had _all_ the time in the world when we'd first gotten together. We just _knew_ we could have kids if and when we wanted – and _believe me_, Sirius wanted kids," he explained, running his hands over his face and looking exhausted. "I didn't. I was still in school, completing my university study. Besides which, I still hadn't informed my parents about our status, and the fact that I'm a werewolf makes this even more difficult for me..."

_"And?_" Ed asked again, waiting for his point.

"And then he was framed for the murders of fifteen people and sent to prison without a trial," Remus said flatly. "He was...he escaped about four years ago, 'died' last year, and, since he got back, we've been desperate for a child."

"Oh," the blond murmured. "I see. I don't think I want kids – at least, not a baby. I'm horrible with them."

"Unfortunate," Remus replied. "What about Professor Mustang?"

"Oh, he, uh," Ed turned to look at Roy. He was stuck between Dennis and Ginny. "I don't know. We haven't spoken about it."

The two were silent for a moment.

"I should've said yes," Remus sighed. "When Sirius first suggested it, I should've said yes. When Lily became pregnant with Harry, I should've said yes. When I saw how much Sirius loved babysitting him, _I should have said yes_."

"Regret's a bitch," Ed confirmed, fingering his right arm. "I think there's nothing wrong with waiting. You didn't know you didn't have time."

The werewolf glanced at Roy's sleeping figure. "If he wanted to have kids, would you say yes? Right now?" he asked, shoulders sagging.

"I don't know," Ed muttered. "We're used to war, so...well, I've got nothing big going on, aside from readjusting to normal life. I guess I'd say yes."

Even as he said this the blond scanned his partner's body and thought, 'no way. Never gonna happen.'

No matter how good the sex was.

"I see," Remus said, voice barely above a whisper. "I admire that. Don't mention it to Sirius, though, or he'll try convincing Professor Mustang to impregnate you so that he could babysit for the two of you."

"Very funny."

Remus blinked. "I'm going out on a limb here, but have you never heard of male pregnancy?" he asked. Ed stared at him increduously.

"Are you serious?" Ed said almost too loudly.

"So you don't know," Remus cupped his chin thoughtfully. "Men in magical environments – particularly powerful wizards, although it can happen to anyone magical – have the ability to become pregnant. It's a phenomenon explained as a means of self-sustainment, originating during the witch-burning era. So...are you okay?"

Ed felt dizzy, leaning forward. He hadn't—he hadn't--

"Roy and I have _never_ used protection," he pressed his fingertips to his lips, not surprised to find the digits shaking. "Oh, hell. Shit. Could—could I be – I mean, I know that I _could _be, but – is it possible I'm...?"

Remus threw an arm over his shoulders, rubbing soothingly. The teen willed his stomach down from the general vicinity of his collarbone. "When was your last time?" the older man asked. Ed swallowed hard.

"Five days ago. On the train from St. Mungo's," he replied, a hand going to his abdomen. There were only two things that had ever made him this nervous before: Al's state of being and Izumi discovering his and Al's secret. This was just as bad. "Pomfrey did some tests on me the day after I got back – would she have included a pregnancy test?"

Remus shook his head, dispelling Ed's hopes immediately. "Even if she had, it wouldn't have given a positive reading until you were already three weeks along. I'm sorry," his voice was low and genuinely concerned. "Do you think you'll be okay?"

"I might be pregnant with the spawn of _Roy Mustang_. Do you think I'm _okay_?!" he snapped, feeling hot tears enter his eyes. "I-I...I can't think...shit. What should I do?"

"Obviously, you need to discuss the possibility with Professor Mustang," the man said, using his free hand to brush the teenager's bangs out of his face. "If you're lucky, this will be no more than a scare. If you _are_ pregnant, your life is going to change drastically. Can you handle both outcomes?"

"No," Ed choked back his tears. He didn't want to cry. Not now. "Yes. I don't know. Fuck, I could be pregnant. It's all my fault, too. I pushed for sex, not him."

His voice was croaky, probably because he was trying to speak around a pulsing ball in his throat.

"That's different. I imagine that, were I in your situation, I would blame Sirius," Remus interrupted his thoughts. "I'll call for some tea for you."

While Remus made good on his promise and called a House Elf over to give it instructions, Ed wrapped his arms around his body, hugging himself. And, much to his chagrin, the elf tripped on her way back over a sleeping Sirius Black's head.

"Monnie is sorry, Master Lupin. She almost dropped Mister Elric's tea," she whispered, handing Ed a cup and placing a pot on the ground next to her. "And she tripped on Master Black."

"And she woke him up," Sirius muttered, sitting up and scratching his head. "Remus. Ed. What the hell are you two doing awake?"

Ed opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was a squeak of air. He tried again, and a sob escaped him. And another. And more yet, though he somehow managed to keep quiet.

"H-hey," Sirius's blur shuffled closer. "What did I do? Did I say something wrong?"

Remus pushed Ed's cup against his lips, forcing the teen to take a few sips. The blond covered his face, knowing how pathetic he had to look and acutely aware of his stomach. "Do you want me to tell him?" the werewolf asked quietly. Ed nodded, shoulders heaving. "Sirius, Ed thinks he might be pregnant."

"Oh," Sirius murmured, and Ed felt another arm go over his shoulders. "And I take it he's not ready for kids?" a pause. "Shit. Come here."

Ed found himself in a gentle embrace, face buried in Sirius's chest. A hand rubbed his neck soothingly, and his tears continued to leak out quickly, obviously soaking the other man's cloak. It was disgusting and embarrassing and awkward, and his tea was spilling all over Sirius's leg, which _had_ to hurt. But Sirius didn't seem to mind.

And after spending a moment thinking about it while crying harder than he had in years, Ed decided it was too comfortable to do anything else.

_**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT'S NOT IMPORTANT TO THE STORY. CARRY ON.**_

And again, morning was hell. Introspectively, Ed realized this might be the reason he wasn't a big morning person. But he couldn't concentrate on that right now. For now, he needed to get out from under Sirius.

"I'm starting to see a pattern here," Hermione said archly. Ed wanted to punch her and vanish at the same time. "Do you make a habit of sleeping with men twice your age?"

"I believe this is an extenuating circumstance," Remus contradicted politely, "although I'm not at liberty to confirm or discuss what circumstance it is."

Roy, awake early for once, raised an eyebrow. The fact that he looked ready to laugh left the teen close to tears. But now that it was morning, his worries seemed a little less drama-worthy. Still bothersome, though.

"_Awfully verbose_ today, aren't you?" the general chuckled. Ed shut his eyes and turned around, reaching for his cloak. "Hey—what's that look for?"

The blond turned around, tugging the fabric over his shoulders. Sirius was glaring at Roy, a murderous look in his eyes. "I'm not giving you a look," he growled.

"Yes, you are," Roy insisted.

"No, I'm not."

"You are _definitely_ giving me a look," the man stated, crossing his arms. "Why are you glaring at me?"

"I'm tired," Sirius muttered, finally breaking his glare. "That makes sense, right? So get off my back, will you?"

"Fine," Roy conceded. "Miss Weasley, is there any way I can be awarded my freedom from you sometime today?"

"No," she murmured, munching on a roll. The two engaged in a conversation about this while Ed demanded food from a nearby House Elf.

The morning proceeded peacefully enough until about lunchtime, the ceiling above them bustling with activity _quite_ unlike what Ed had heard the night before.

"This isn't what I expected," a deep voice came from the doorway. Ed prepared to clap his hands as he wheeled around, but stopped himself when Sirius let out a barking laugh and clapped his own hands twice.

"Kingsley!" he exclaimed, scampering cheerfully toward a large black man. "How have you been since I was declared dead?"

Ed glanced around, surprised to find relief on most of the faces in the room. The man in the doorway raised an eyebrow.

"Busy," he replied. "Between desk work, assignments, and keeping Tonks away from Remus, I've hardly had a moment to myself."

"Oh," Sirius said, face neutral. "I was in prison."

"Of course you were," the bald man shook his head. "If there's a prison near you, you somehow _always_ wind up in it."

Without warning, Sirius pounced on the man Ed now knew as Kingsley. For a moment, he thought the dog-man had snapped, but closer examination found him laughing and pushing his nose all over his victim's face. Kingsley held him back by the shoulders.

"Sirius, we truly _did_ think you dead," he said, sitting up. It almost bothered Ed that he could still look dignified with another grown man sitting perkily in his lap. "So it's good to have you back."

"Do I get a 'welcome home' kiss?" Sirius asked, batting his eyelashes. Kingsley raised an eyebrow and glanced briefly to Remus.

"No," he answered.

Sirius looked at Remus as well, sending him a look both mischievous and apologetic.

"Bugger _that_!" he declared, shoving Kingsley back to the floor and forcing his lips onto the other man's. The black man struggled violently and knocked his face away. "I'm _back_, man! Aren't you happy? You said something like it."

"I should rinse my mouth with cyanide," Kingsley said, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "You germ-ridden manwhore."

"I'm hurt," Sirius said, pouting.

It took perhaps a minute before the newcomer yanked Sirius down by his hair and headbutted him. The two reeled away from one another, Kingsley recovering first and smirking at the dog-man.

"Welcome back," he said. After receiving a thumbs-up from Sirius, he turned to the group.

"Remus. Harry. Everyone," Kingsley nodded. He caught Ed's eye, and the blond braced himself. "Ah, yes. I'd nearly forgotten. Mr. Elric and Mr. Mustang, I presume?"

Ed nodded. The other man sighed.

"Well, the school's been recaptured. I'm here to take you back up."

**THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT'S NOT IMPORTANT TO THE STORY. CARRY ON.**

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A/N:

WELL HELLO THERE. IT'S BEEN A WHILE, HASN'T IT?!

Okay, ending capslock mode. I didn't mean for this to be so late – it's just that a lot of stuff happened. I was going to post this before I went to China, but I ended up having twice as much to prepare for and didn't have the time. When I got back, I found out that my grandfather had passed away, as well as my co-worker. I had to attend his funeral and take over her hours. Then I got a promotion at work and was offered a job teaching ESL at my college, so I've been EXCEPTIONALLY BUSY of late.

This chapter was originally longer, but I decided to cut it. The next one shouldn't take nearly as long to finish (I hope), as the original end of this chapter is now the beginning of the next one.

I also _did_ cut some scenes from this one, but if people want to read them I'll repost this with them. Said scenes are:

_**Sirius and Roy arguing more over the alcohol.**_

_**Ginny and Roy having another nice chat about sex, much to Ron's chagrin.**_

_**Remus telling a story about when James found out about him and Sirius.**_

_**Sirius and Roy discussing the merits of opposable thumbs in relation to alcohol.**_

_**Sirius being a generally bad example to everyone and carving fruit into funny shapes.**_

_**Roy explaining to Ron and Hermione the multiple ways one can die of combustion.**_

_**Sirius trying to ferment peaches to see if they make wine.**_

_**Sirius bonding with Ed.**_

_**Ron teaching House Elves hopscotch. (Note: Mentioned briefly in the next chapter)**_

Please don't blame me for the lack of these scenes. My BUDDY Valli read the chapter (full length – 39 pages!) and told me that if I loved Sirius so much I should marry him. Then she made me remove a lot of his scenes because, in her words, "Sirius Black should be committed to an insane asylum. By which I obviously mean he should be chained to your brother's bed so we can have our nasty way with him and torment him with the end of the seventh book."

...Anyone else IN LOVE WITH VALLI YET?! I think she cried herself to sleep when he died.

Right. Hope to post soon! Tell me if you want to see the removed scenes.


	9. Tension

**A/N: **Hey, all! Sorry it's been…holy crap, sorry it's been a year! I changed universities and a lot of other crap happened, but you're not worried about that. As in, "these are not the droids you're looking for"-not worried. Are we clear? Okay.

And hey, a big shoutout to the reason you all haven't gotten this chapter! HI AMANDA. HOW ARE YOU? THIS UPDATE IS FOR EVERYONE ELSE. BUT NOT YOU, SINCE YOU HAVEN'T RETURNED THE THINGS I LENT YOU AND YOUR SISTER. I BELIEVE THE AGREEMENT WAS I WOULD UPDATE THIS WHEN I GOT THEM BACK?

Now, everyone! Don't bash Amanda. Instead, ENJOY FIC!

Chapter Nine: "Tension"

The trek to the Great Hall was, put simply, boring as Hell.

Ed was ignoring Roy. Completely. As in, unless the words, "I'm sorry I _might_ have knocked you up," came out of his mouth, the teen wasn't going to pay him _any _mind. Anything else didn't even deserve a listen. And Ed _knew_ he was being ridiculous, since his superior had absolutely _no way_ of knowing he might've gotten him pregnant, but he didn't care. Instead, he stuck next to Sirius, since they seemed to be on the same page.

Of course, that was completely forgotten when the group reached their destination and Ed found himself being tackled to the ground. "Hey!" he snarled, getting ready to clap his hands together. The urge vanished when Neville's voice escaped from the middle of the embrace.

"Edward! You're okay!" he exclaimed, arms tightening around the blond's neck. Ed tried to answer, but the other boy just kept rattling on. "I was stuck in the Greenhouse - well, Greenhouse Three - with Colin and Professor Sprout, and we had to keep the Attacking Italian Rosehips calm _all_ the time, and we had no idea what was going on, but then--"

Ed pushed against Neville's shoulders as his oxygen supply began to run low. Neville picked up on the hint, releasing his friend's throat and sitting on his thighs.

"I was worried," Neville said, voice soft.

The young alchemist sighed internally, trying to sit up. Possessing neither Kingsley's dignity nor Sirius's wit, he was left with few options to salvage the situation. The giggles emitting from the relieved students in the Hall were beginning to get to him, too, and he could have sworn his face was getting hotter and hotter. But Neville looked so helpless and vulnerable, even childish, slumped in the blond's lap.

To Hell with it.

"I was with Potter and Professors Mustang and Black, as well as a few others," Ed cast his eyes over the group, noting that Ginny was holding Roy's hand. _Whore_. "We were stuck in the kitchen. It was boring as shit, but we ate well."

The pair was silent for a moment, but then Ed had enough of it. He let himself lay back against the floor, arms coming up behind his head. Neville tilted his head in confusion while Ed made himself comfortable, not even shifting a bit as the alchemist let out a long sigh. After a moment, Ed murmured, "you know, if you stay there too long people are going to think you're in love with me, man. And I'm sorry, but I'm not _into_ you like that."

His friend's face took a magnificent shade of pink - perhaps _fuchsia_ was the right term? - and he immediately stood, offering Ed a hand. Ed stared at it for a moment, slapped it, and rolled onto his side, chuckling.

"E-Edward?" Neville asked, clearly even more confused than when he'd been sitting on him. Ed didn't answer, pulling his knees up instead. _To Hell with it._

**It's very difficult to come up with witty breaklines. Pretend this is amusing and then keep reading.**

Roy decided, as Ed proceeded to curl up on the floor of the Hall and ignore his friend, that something had to be wrong with his subordinate. First, he had an _extenuating circumstance_ in the morning, then he ignored him completely after Kingsley showed up, and now he was practically sulking on the ground. Something _bad_ had to have happened.

It was Ginny who actually acted first. She knelt next to him (Roy had begun to wonder if she flashed her panties to everyone, since if Ed turned his head in his position, he could see straight into her skirt) and placed a hand on his head. "Edward? Are you okay?" she asked, playing with the base of his braid. When he didn't answer, she leaned over and looked him in the eye. "What are you doing?"

Ed lifted his arm and pushed her away. "Nothing," he replied, curling up further. "And if I _was_ doing something, I wouldn't tell _you_."

The girl had the decency to look offended.

"Why's that?" she almost hissed. Roy noticed that the pair of them had the attention of just about the whole Hall by this point, and Professor McGonagall was making her way toward them. "I'm being _nice_."

His subordinate chuckled again. "Great, a _nice_ whore," he said, voice sounding sarcastic. "But you're still a whore. I make a point of not answering whores."

The Edward Elric Roy knew wasn't a spiteful person. There had to be a reason he was acting like this, but at the moment Roy couldn't do anything about it. Students were whispering to each other and Ron looked angrier than a man who'd just been beaten at his own game. McGonagall arrived, skirts of her robes sweeping against the ground dramatically in time with her steps.

Without further ado (or much thought, for that matter), Roy stepped forward and scooped Edward, bridal style, into his arms. A good amount of gasps came from the crowd and the amount of whispers multiplied. Ed didn't even fight, worrying the older man even more.

"Professor?" McGonagall asked, thin brow arched. Roy cocked his head, shifting the boy in his arms. "What's the matter with Mr. Elric?"

Roy couldn't help but wonder that himself. "I'm not sure," he murmured. _Damn, Ed was heavy_. "I think the situation for the past few days was...a little too much like home for him. It was rough on him. I'll take him back to our rooms for now, but if he doesn't get better, I might have to keep him from classes for a few days. Would that be all right, Professor McGonagall?"

The woman pulled her robes tighter around her, lips thinning. "Very well. I'll be by later to check on you two."

The general nodded, a little uncomfortable when Ed wrapped his arms around his neck. Well, they _were _"married" now, but no one knew that but McGonagall (and perhaps Remus and Sirius). At the very least, though, this made it easier to carry the teen, so he put up with it and started on his way out.

Roy couldn't begin to describe how wrong this was. The boy was acting so...strange. It wasn't like him. Visions of Ed having given up completely filled his mind - an unmotivated, bored Edward - and he shuddered. _Wrong_.

Once they'd reached their room, though, Ed let go, pulled himself out of Roy's grip, and collapsed on their currently-shared bed. His angle was strange, and the older man tried to straighten out his head so he wouldn't end up with a crick in his neck. That bit of sympathy lasted all of two seconds before a hand came up and smacked his away. Stung, too. Damn automail.

"Is something the matter?" Roy asked sarcastically, rubbing the spot where a welt would undoubtedly rise. Ed didn't answer, of course.

Go figure, the older man thought. He checked to make sure the boy was breathing (although the face-in-pillow made that difficult), and then surveyed the room to see the damage.

The wall was repaired, somehow, where he'd blown it up. It was a bit of a relief, since he probably would have had to repair it himself if McGonagall had seen it. Everything else was in place---

Including the psychotic bird that seemed to have realized his presence in the room and, appropriately, attacked his ankles. He kicked her, more in self-preservation than anything, and she retaliated immediately by hopping up and going straight for his genitals. He managed to avoid the attack and grabbed her by the back of her neck.

The loud squeal she let out was enough to rouse Edward a little bit. He stretched out his shoulders and called over them, "if you kill Lihst, I'm going to castrate you."

"She just attempted that, actually," Roy said, a little snidely. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have tried to do anything to the fucking niao. I guess she missed me too much to hold back."

The general tossed the bird onto the bed, and she immediately cuddled up next to Ed's face. The teen scratched at her neck and pushed his nose affectionately into her chest. "Sorry, Lihst, but it might be a little late for a pre-emptive strike. Thanks for trying, though."

Roy raised an eyebrow. "Pre-emptive?" he asked. The teen was silent for a moment.

"I might…have the ability to, uh…conceive," Ed muttered. Roy stopped breathing. "Remus and Sirius explained it to me last night. If I'm—I mean, I might be pregnant. And if I am, I—well. You bastard."

Roy took a deep breath, surprising himself with how _not_ close to fainting he was. Edward's statement rang in his ears for a moment, and he plopped down next to the teen, mind blank. _Pregnant_? If there was one thing Roy _never_ expected to become, it was a father, much less the father of another man's baby. But then, with Edward anything was possible. If he could cuddle with a violent, ugly, nearly featherless bird and live in another world for months at a time, of _course_ he could become pregnant.

And in a flash of sudden insight, Roy realized that Edward probably needed more comfort than him. He was a _kid_, damn it. No matter how mature he was, this was _not_ something he could handle alone.

"I'm not a bastard," he murmured softly, leaning down to look the teen in the eye. "But that doesn't mean that this isn't my fault. How do you want to handle this?"

Ed let out a breath and glared at his superior. "I'd like to not have to handle it," he answered succinctly, placing Lihst back onto the ground and sitting up. "But from the looks of it, that might not be an option. And we can't even figure that out for another two weeks. You _are_ a bastard."

Roy brought up a hand and mussed Ed's hair a little. His subordinate did his best to look angry, but in seconds, Roy had the teen against his chest, arms around his blond head. He wasn't good at hugging to comfort people, and long ago he'd learned that this position was easiest. No one had ever pointed out the obscenity inherent in it, and it seemed comfortable enough.

This kind of thinking was probably why the general had absolutely no luck in committed relationships.

But Ed's mismatched hands came up clench at his back, as if this was some level of comfort, and Roy nosed the blonde's head. Damn, he didn't want children. He definitely didn't, but he might not have a choice—

"Two weeks?" he murmured, not sure what else to say. Ed nodded.

"Two weeks. Bastard."

He stretched his legs on either side of his subordinate. By this point, Edward was pressed completely against him, his head against his neck and his legs pushed behind him. And for a few minutes, the two were completely still, just breathing and resting, thinking.

"You know, this position is pretty shameless," Ed finally murmured. "I mean, just hugging someone's head is kinda…I dunno. It seems obscene. What are you, an idiot?"

Roy could've kissed him. But then again, with how undoubtedly angry the teen must've already been, it would've been a terrible idea to follow through on. So instead, he just nodded and loosened his grip a little.

"This is certainly an interesting position," Professor McGonagall's voice came from the doorway. Roy didn't bother looking up, instead flexing his toes. "Won't he suffocate if you remain that way?"

Ed wrapped his arms around Roy tighter, and the general finally responded. "Pregnancy scare," he explained, stroking Ed's hair. The woman's lips tightened, eyes bulging slightly. "He was terrified because he started feeling sick during the attack, and Lupin and Black brought up the possibility that he was pregnant. When he's emotionally confused, he…freezes. Just stops caring. That's what you saw in the Hall earlier."

McGonagall's lips became dangerously thin. "You may have impregnated one of your students? And a subordinate, as it may be?"

Roy let out a heavy sigh. "The day after an attack on the school, you're biggest concern is if I've gotten my fiancé pregnant? I'd say your priorities are in the wrong place."

Ed shook with withheld laughter, and McGonagall glared at him. "At this point, my priorities are to rebuild the school's reputation. That will be hard enough without a student becoming pregnant by a teacher, even if the relationship is legal somewhere else."

Ed finally spoke. "Can you wait to lecture us until after we figure out if we're the newest to-be parents at Hogwarts?" he asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. McGonagall crossed her arms.

"You will be kept out of classes for three days," she growled. "In addition, you will check in with the nurse at the end of two weeks to have a pregnancy test. Professor Mustang, you will go through teaching as usual, with the exception of sixth and seventh-year Gryffindors, who will be taught by Hermione Granger. Do I make myself clear?"

"Clear enough," Roy answered, holding tight to Ed's head. "For now, though, I'd like a chance to speak with Edward about what our plans from here out. Could we have some time, please?"

McGonagall nodded, turning on her heel and shutting the door behind her.

**OF COURSE I HAVEN'T MADE UP SOMETHING INTERESTING. IT'S ONLY BEEN A FEW PARAGRAPHS.**

Of course, two weeks didn't pass quickly enough. At the end of one, he'd been invited to dinner again with Remus and Sirius. Roy accompanied him this time, to a great and lengthy silence punctuated by a glare and two twitches. Ed took a deep breath.

"Uh, hi. Hi. Still up for dinner?" he asked, standing slightly in front of Roy. Sirius crossed his arms.

"Yeah, that sounds good," the man murmured, standing against the doorway and stretching out his shoulders. "Do you want me to castrate Professor Mustang for you?"

Roy sighed, rolling his eyes. "First Lihst, then you. Why is everyone so intent on emasculating me recently? We don't even know if I've done anything terrible to Edward yet!"

Remus pulled Sirius away from the door. "True. This is very true."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Come in."

"_Thank you_," Ed growled out, tugging Roy into the room and elbowing Sirius pointedly in the side. The man flinched.

"Ouch," he summarized, rubbing the area tenderly. "I forgot about your arm. That hurt."

Roy shot the man a look of sympathy. "You should feel it when he really means it," he said seriously, gesturing a fist against his stomach. "There's nothing quite like a metal arm in the gut to remind you not to fuck with someone."

"Or fuck someone, period?" Sirius suggested. Roy shrugged.

"I would imagine," he admitted. "Heaven forbid I ever find out."

"At this rate," Ed growled, suddenly annoyed that they were getting along, "you just might get to experience it."

Sirius twisted his lips theatrically. "Eh, who knows? You two are pretty volatile for—"

"For people who intend to marry, yes," Remus interrupted tactfully, stretching out on the couch. "But that's your prerogative. So, would you care for ribs or chicken legs today?"

"Legs," Roy answered immediately. "Ed?"

"Legs," he agreed. "No ribs today. Legs."

Roy sat down and sighed. "Legs are great. I miss legs," he breathed. Ed glared at him, while Remus raised an eyebrow. A second later, Roy's mind caught up with his mouth, and he glanced at the blond next to him. "Sorry. Not that I don't like your horribly mismatched ones, but sometimes a man just needs _legs_, Ed."

"Well, it's no big deal," the teen growled, plopping onto the couch. "I miss _eyes_. Not that I don't like your _useless_ mismatched ones, but sometimes a man just needs _eyes_."

Sirius threw himself onto the couch across from Ed, the springs groaning in protest, and sighed heavily. "This seems like an appropriate time to bring up reproduction," the dog-man quipped, glancing between the two. Roy sank into the cushions next to his subordinate and waited. "So, then, reproduction. Any news thus far?"

"No," Ed growled, crossing his arms. "Not for another week, at least. Don't bring it up anymore."

"Then how about what I discussed with you before?" Remus interjected, emerging from the doorway with a plate of chicken and a few side dishes. Roy immediately filled his plate, while Ed looked the werewolf over. "The marriage idea?"

Ed nodded, running a finger over his knife. "Yeah. If you wanna get married in Amestris when you're not a citizen, you have to fill out about a million and a half forms, pay a fee of about ten thousand Amestrian dollars, and go through psychiatric counseling to determine whether you're suited to marriage or not. Since, you know, same-sex divorce in Amestis is about a billion times harder to get than marriage," he explained, taking a sip of water after he'd finished. "And then, of course, you'll need recommendations from two Amestrian military officials who will have to be the witnesses to the nuptials. And so far as I know, you only acquaint yourselves with two Amestrian military officials."

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, but I think we picked some good ones," he decided. "I mean, you're getting married, so we know you don't take issue with our homosexuality. But this means I have to play nice with Mustang, doesn't it?"

"Karma's a bitch sometimes," Roy dismissed. Ed watched him raise an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware that the two of you wanted to marry. Any particular reason behind it?"

"We've been together twenty years or so," Remus deadpanned. "Do we need a better reason than that?"

Ed felt his brows come together. That wasn't the reason Remus had given him, not by a longshot. He shot the werewolf a questioning look, but it was answered only by a placid smile. Next to him, Roy shrugged.

"I've only had one friend marry," the general said, "and most of his reasoning was that he wanted a _family_ as soon as possible."

Sirius scoffed, to Ed's surprise. He tried to remember – didn't Remus say the guy had wanted kids? "What about you and Ed?" the dog-man asked, scooting almost unnoticeably away from Remus as he spoke. "I mean, it's pretty obvious by how upset Ed got that you're not trying to start a family of your own. Why are you two getting married?"

Ed wracked his mind for something, anything he could say that would explain their fictional engagement. Luckily, Roy was way ahead of him:

"Legal stuff," he said simply. "Visitation rights, property, taxes, etc. Just a bunch of legal stuff. And, of course, sex. Sex is always a good reason to get married."

"But marriage isn't requisite for sex," Remus pointed out, "as is obvious by Edward's possible state of impregnation."

Ed felt his stomach rise again at the mention of the _possibility_. "We _agreed_ not to talk about that, if I remember right," he growled. "So can we get back onto any topic that _isn't_ my impending doom?"

"Spoilsport," Sirius stuck out his tongue. "Fine. Back to me and Remus wanting to get married. When you say a 'million and a half,' what do you really mean? Ten?"

Roy appeared to be in deep thought. "Somewhere around fifty, I think," he estimated. "That's not including the papers your own country will make you fill out. And, of course, all the blood tests and mental exams – and let's not forget the all important military inquisition – add up to more work than most people would be willing to do. Do you still want to be married?"

"_Yes_," Remus said emphatically. "Does anyone else want any tea?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Remus, we all have drinks already," he pointed out. Remus nodded, gesturing towards a book in the corner. "What, some obscure etiquette thing? I say _obscure_ because, my dear Remus, I know every rule in the book. And by _every rule in the book_, I mean every rule in every possible book – or, at the very least, the extensive collection my insane mother possessed."

"You digress," Remus informed him, and Ed couldn't help but realize how _English_ they were. The werewolf nodded pointedly at the two soldiers. "I somehow doubt your mother had any books on Amestrian courtesy. I only just managed to find one in the room of requirement the other day. It says midway through dinner, I am supposed to offer my guests tea."

Ed shrugged. "I grew up in a farming town, then a military base," he said simply. "Levels of courtesy are way lower there."

Roy had the decency to look impressed. "I appreciate the thought, and especially the preparation and research you've taken upon yourself, but I hope to learn a few of your customs while I'm here," he said – complete bullshit, Ed realized with a well-concealed snort – and resumed eating his dinner. Remus nodded in understanding.

"All right, then," he replied, going back to his own meal. They were quiet for a few minutes, and then the door flew open.

"Sirius, you got a sec?" Potter called in, closely flanked by Granger and _Ron_ Weasley. The bespectacled boy blinked as his eyes fell onto what must've been a strange scene in his mind, the four having a pleasant dinner together. "Uh…well, I guess _that's_ a no…"

"Come right on in," Sirius drawled. Ed couldn't tell if he was serious or not. But the _wonder trio_ obeyed, Potter's eyes on Ed the whole while. "Something I can do for you?"

Potter cleared his throat. "We can't find Hagrid," he explained. "Is he, you know…_working_?"

"Yes, at my old place," Sirius answered succinctly. "Care for a bite to eat?"

Ron's face scrunched up at the offer. "Why are you having a meal with _those two_?" he asked, glaring at Ed in particular. "I mean, they're not really the best company."

"Is this about what I called your sister?" Ed asked dryly. "Because I don't know if you noticed, but I wasn't exactly in the best frame of mind that day. You could give me one free pass, you know."

The redhead frowned. "You elbowed me in the stomach so hard I could've had internal bleeding, then you called my little sister a whore. Forgive me if I'm not lenient."

Ed cocked his head. "I guess you have a point there," he said, and without another word, went back to eating. Roy, who didn't appear to have heard any of the conversation, pointedly stole what was left of his potato from his plate. In retaliation, Ed promptly snatched his carrots.

Hermione almost dashed over when he did this, reaching for his arm. "Was that metal I just saw?" she asked, and he pulled his automail arm away from her.

"Haven't we already been through this?" he groaned, holding it close. She blinked, and he clutched his arm tighter. "My bone problem? The plated brace? Fact is, your fascination with it scares me."

"I believe we were discussing marriage?" Sirius reminded them tactlessly. The Gryffindor trio's eyes were on him immediately. "Anyway, how soon could Remus and I get married if we started the process right away?"

"By April," Roy informed him. "If you're lucky, as soon as March. It really depends on how your ministry handles your request."

Potter took a deep breath. "Sirius, did you just say you were hoping to get married? To Professor Lupin?"

"I'm no longer a professor, Harry," Remus called over jovially. Hermione frowned.

"But you _are_ planning to marry Sirius?" she asked. The werewolf nodded. "That's…I mean, congratulations if it goes through, but still. You want to marry him?"

Sirius's hand fluttered to his chest. "I am wounded, Hermione, that you would deem me so unmarriageable," he gasped. "It is a fatal injury, I'm sure! And now, who will take care of my final affairs? With whom can I spend my final days, between life and death on a hospital bed?"

"We get it," Hermione said softly, a hint of a smile on her face. "You two are serious about this?"

Roy cleared his throat. "They were serious enough to ask the only people they know who could get them married. I would call that serious enough. Now, are you three ever going to accept or decline their offer?"

"Already ate," Potter answered quickly. "Anyway, we just wanted to know where Hagrid is. Now that we know, we'll just…study or something. Okay?"

"You don't have to clear it with us," Sirius grinned. "Go study. Or do something that isn't studying; I'm really not too interested in knowing if you do or not. But stay for dinner next time, okay?"

Potter nodded, gesturing for Hermione and Ron to follow him out. Almost the moment the door shut, Sirius sighed.

"I was good, Remus; I didn't even mention reproduction to them," he said immediately. "I think I deserve a treat. Don't you think I deserve a treat? Come on, now, I need a treat for that."

Ed spent the rest of the evening wondering how Sirius ever became so doglike.

**OH HOW I WISH I WAS WITTY ENOUGH TO MAKE A GOOD TRANSITION LINE**

By the time the two weeks were over, Ed was more certain than ever that he was pregnant. He was nauseous, his joints ached, and for the first time in years, his phantom limb syndrome was coming back. It must've been pregnancy. So, before Roy even woke up that morning, he squirmed out of his grip and began to dress in the dark, trying not to make much noise. From the other bed, Severus let out a sigh.

"Mr. Elric, there is no reason to be so discrete slipping out of bed after a night with another man when you _live together _with him," he said softly enough that it could've been a whisper. "Unless you don't want him to realize you're leaving, in which case I should speak louder in order to trouble you further."

Ed rolled his eyes. "I might be pregnant," he informed the other man. "So I'm going to go have the test done without him feeling he has to _hold my hand_ through it or something. Okay?"

"My, my, my," Severus breathed. "Well, should you discover you _are_ pregnant, please inform me straightaway – that I might have a chance at a dignified death, you know."

The blond decided right there that should he not be pregnant, he should fake another pregnancy scare just to get back at the ex-professor. But instead of vocalizing this, he simply fumbled in the darkness for his bag, slipped his robes over his usual outfit, and made his way to the door, opening and slipping out and closing it as quietly as he could. After his eyes adjusted to the light in the hallway, he made his way to the hospital wing.

Upon his arrival, he found Madam Pomfrey setting her bag down on a counter, looking only slightly surprised that he'd come in so early. She sighed. "It's today, then?"

Ed nodded. "It's been three weeks since the last time we, uh…what's the proper term for it? Er, I don't want to sound offensive, but…"

"I understand your point, Mr. Elric," she said simply. "If we're to get this over with quickly, I'll need you to take off your pants."

He didn't argue, although most of him was screaming for him to do so, instead unsnapping his pants and shoving them to his ankles, looking anywhere but her face. She was quiet as she did her work, leaving him to bite his lip and wonder how this was going to turn out. He had to be pregnant, just _had _to be, and God, his life was _over_. He wasn't even seventeen yet, and his life was just _over_ now. Never mind that he'd already died once before – this was far worse. He had to suffer _alive_ through pregnancy and birth and raising a fucking _Mustang_ baby—

"You're not pregnant," Pomfrey said simply, snapping him out of his thoughts. His eyes went straight to her face. "You're absolutely not pregnant. If you'd like to be sure there will be no future pregnancy scares, I can ask Professor Slughorn to make you a contraceptive potion."

"_Please_," Ed said as gratefully as he could. Pomfrey gestured for him to pull up his pants, which he did immediately, flushing at having forgotten. He then cleared his throat. "So, then, the nausea and phantom limb syndrome and everything was just…?"

"Stress," she nodded. "You were terrified of being pregnant, weren't you?"

He scoffed. "That's an understatement. The _apocalypse _was coming, as far as I was concerned."

Pomfrey looked like she was going to say something else, but the door swung open at that very moment, none other than Sirius Black bounding through.

"Hello! I've melted all the skin off my shin and _mother of God_, does it hurt!" he said cheerfully, rolling up his pants over the leg he was not hopping on as he spoke, too occupied with the activity to pay any mind to whoever was in the room. "So, then, Poppy! Fix me up, would you?"

When at last he looked up, he blinked twice. Pomfrey nodded. "Exactly. Perhaps not the best person to say such things in front of. But come along, I'll patch you up."

"You're a lifesaver," Sirius grinned. "I mean that literally."

"Don't let flattery get him anywhere," Remus called as he walked into the room, surprisingly calm for someone whose lover had just _melted_ the skin off his shin. "And it was entirely his fault, Poppy, so please make the treatment even more painful than the injury itself might have been. Good morning, Edward."

Ed nodded, the idea that he _wasn't pregnant_ slowly seeping through his body. It was such a relief – his body felt as light as a feather for a few seconds. Happily, he turned to the werewolf.

"I'm not pregnant," he informed him. Remus raised an eyebrow. "You might think it's wrong I'm so happy, but damn it, I'm _not pregnant_!"

The much older man nodded, eyebrows both reaching for his scalp now. They just might make it, too, Ed thought, if they kept stretching the way they were. "Well, as happy as I am to hear it, shouldn't Professor Mustang be the first to know?" he inquired. Ed cocked his head. "After all, I imagine he might have feelings about _not_ becoming a father."

Ed sighed. "I'm just sharing good news," he muttered. Though the elation was still there, a pain started to settle in his lower back, one the likes of which he'd not felt previously. "And I'm on my way to do that. Let me know how your masochistic pet there is doing later, okay?"

Remus nodded and waved goodbye, and Ed was all too happy to rush down the stairs and halls and all the way back to his rooms. There, he threw the door open, no longer caring that it would wake anyone. Roy groaned from his position on the bed, Severus turned over, and Lihst chirped a few lazy chirps of protest. When at last Roy squinted at him with his one good eye, Ed grinned.

"Not pregnant!" he exclaimed, jumping onto the bed boots and all. His superior rubbed his face tiredly. "Come on. Remus told me you might have _feelings_ about me not being pregnant. Let's hear 'em."

"Thank God," Roy said softly, pulling Ed on top of him. "Any child of ours would be terrifying."

Ed struggled against the hold until he got free, quirking an eyebrow at Roy. "You're going back to sleep now?"

"Yes," Roy groaned, turning over. "I don't have class to teach until eleven. So I can sleep until ten. I don't really care what you do until then. And yes, I am as happy as you are that we're not having a baby. Now turn off the light and let me sleep."

Ed frowned, but did exactly that, regathering his book bag and turning out the door. His watch told him it was just barely seven, but his body felt heavy already, like it was close to midnight. He tried to ignore it, remembering what Pomfrey had said about the stress of wondering if he was pregnant. And it seemed to work, slightly.

Until the pain in his back got worse. And his right elbow – the elbow he hadn't had in years – was aching. He bit his lip.

Fucking phantom limb syndrome.

But he wasn't pregnant. When he reminded himself of that, the pain lessened, so he kept the thought in his mind as he went down to the Hall, not surprised to see it starting to fill with people already. A few looked surprised; he had to admit it was unusual for him to come in alone, as more often than not he had to get Roy up to the staff table. He ignored those stares, too, sitting next to Neville and trying to ignore the increasing pain in his back, now spreading into his abdomen.

"Morning," he managed, smiling toothily at his friend. Neville returned the greeting, offering him a roll. Ed took it, nibbling it slowly. The nausea was coming back.

For the love of God, he wasn't pregnant! Even if everything was caused by stress, it should be long gone by now!

He was so engrossed in ignoring the pain spreading through him that he didn't notice Potter approaching him. He wasn't even fully aware of it when the other boy stood behind him, obviously waiting for him to turn. He only noticed when Potter grabbed his shoulder and wheeled him around.

And everyone was quiet.

"I want to talk to you," the boy said pointedly. Ed's vision suddenly hazed over for a second as the pain increased tenfold. He struggled to hold on to his coherent mind, attempting to process the statement. Something must've been wrong. He'd never been in this much pain in his life, not when he'd lost his arm, not when he'd gotten new automail, not when he'd _died_…

Then Potter was gripping his aching fake arm, dragging him physically out of the hall. He fought to get his legs under him, the left one also starting to hurt, to _burn, _to just plain _throb_ with pain. And before he knew it, he was outside, being pressed to a wall.

"There are things I need to know," a voice came at him, and then he saw Potter's lips moving. Oh, it must've been him talking. Still talking, he realized, and it didn't really matter. It didn't matter at all because everything just hurt so much and was so wrong. This, this must've been death. A different kind of death, one he hadn't experienced before, one far _worse_ than bleeding to death…

"Are you listening to me?!" he heard through the buzz in his ears, and he tried to focus again. He thought he saw the other boy blink, and his voice started becoming slower. "Whoooa, h-e-y…are you okaaaaaaaaay?"

And with a sudden rush of sound and more pain than he'd ever imagined possible, the world and every coherent thought or thing in it _vanished_.

**A/N:** Well! After a year without updating, I leave you with a cliffhanger. No wonder you guys hate me! Okay, then. More will come after I finish defragmenting the files my old computer ATE when it broke. Ta!


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